ciswy

my options, in chronological order:
1. Spent my entire lifetime believing I was fat, even though it's probably only really been true for the past 7 years, and for a time in college. Why? Because of the catty girls behind me in the water fountain line who said that my belly was getting so fat as I was drinking water. In retrospect, they were probably just hot and thirsty and wanted me to hurry up.

2. Requiring speech therapy in first/second grade because I couldn't pronounce the sh sound. came out as s. Not too big a deal, unless you know my name irl.

3. 2nd grade school bus. I got on the bus at almost the last stop, and noone would let me sit with them. Happened repeatedly. Although i wasn't aware of why at the time, in hindsite and conversations with my bro, it was probably bec i was one of the few jewish kids on the school bus.

4. 4th grade. chorus tryouts. basically all the kids get to join. all the time. except for me. Did it have anything to do with the fact that all the other kids were given familiar christmas songs to sing, together in a group, and I was given a hanukah song that I didn't know to sing by myself?

5. 6th grade when two classmates taunted me (endlessly), claiming that I stuffed my bra. And that I did such a poor job that the 2 sides were uneven.

6. Junior high, and the perpetual lunch time fear that I wouldn't have anyone to sit with in the cafeteria.

7. Adulthood, challenged to take on a creative writing project and terribly fearful that I don't have the ability or the wit to produce anything publishable.

Moon

B pointed to the moon and approximated "moon" tonight (I prompted, as T or I do every night it is visible from the bedroom window, to say goodnight to the moon).

Distal pointing.

Yeah.

Sleep Away Camp

I signed up BOTH my boys for 2 sessions of weekend sleepaway camp, in December and March. Such a big step! I think it will be really good for them, and I KNOW it will be really good for me. I talked to another parent there who also has 8 year twin boys with significant disabilities, who was incredulous that T and I have only had 2 nights (not even consecutive) EVER alone together without the boys since they were born. He's been sending his kids to sleepaway camp since they were 5. I'm really hopeful that it will help them increase their independence skills, and just open them up to a new experience. Many thanks to jennyalice and Mama B who supported me in making this big decision!

I accompanied another mom to an iep meeting today. The school psych was trying to explain that her beautiful did not meet the requirements for a mental retardation diagnosis, but he came awfully close. I'm not sure how much she was able to absorb. Just the not mentally retarded part. Or really close. I could see how painful it was for the professionals to break this news to the parent. And yet, the mom needs to know this. She needs to understand as much as possible about what her son needs, including where he is at right now, and what kind of support he needs to progress. Hard day.

Tent Camping!

All four of us went tent camping this weekend, and we all came back whole and healthy with not even a close brush with mortality, so the trip definately exceded my expectations. Sacramento River Delta, with a group of about 65 campers from a special needs group on the Coast, who invited us to join them. Several young adults with disabilities such as downs and autism, including at least one independent young adult with downs who was unaccompanied except by his younger sister. Very supportive group of people. A few high school students around, who were getting social service credits for running after B and helping some of the kids in electric wheelchairs maneuver around the campsite terrain. Great weather, collective meals, swimming and boat rides in the mercury-contaminated fish-filled river. I think we'll do it again next year. Maybe even time to invest in our own tent.

I took my first-ever yoga class tonight, and really enjoyed it. Gentle Yoga, the class is called. 7 students, many with issues such as arthritis, obesity, joint issues. Age range from 20-something to 70-something. Great introduction for me. I'm hoping to be back there next Monday evening.

Good Boy

Every morning when I put B on the school bus, I tell him he has to be a good boy, then ask him if he will be a good boy, then wait for him to echo back "good boy" so I know he is paying attention. Seems like the concept is not quite sinking in though.

B has been having some "issues" with the school bus. The problem started on the day that the classroom staff put someone else's jacket on him on a 90 degree afternoon and sent him home on the bus for a 90 minute ride. Poor guy was overheated and not happy. Ever since then, he has been figuring out how to wriggle out of his buckle guard (and through the guard out the bus window) and wriggle out of the harness (this kid is more agile than Houdini!!!) and walk around the schoolbus as the driver is trying to concentrate on Freeway traffic.

Equation II

so i think there must be an equation between amount of wine drunk and feelings of great love. I think the equation results in a sine curve.

2 glasses of wine later...

The teacher I'd been waiting 2 years for until an opening in her class became available for one of my sons.... is having a hard time with my son. Aaarghhh!!!! I thought she'd be perfect for him, provide enough structure to prevent the negative behaviors and encourage some actual learning and progress. But instead she writes me notes that he is pulling down his pants in the play area and at snack time and starting to poop.

WTF does he have a 1:1 for if not to NOT LET HIM PULL HIS PANTS DOWN AND POOP IN THE PLAY AREA?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?

One of the many things I'm grateful for

Doing housework is a nonissue in my home. T does the majority of it. I do the things he doesn't like to do. We have periodic disagreements about certain things, but that's on a monthly or yearly basis, not a daily basis. We both share a general philosophy that we each try to get done whatever we can when there's a moment, so noone gets stuck with too much at the end of the day. That's a really nice thing.

The things I want to know about blogging

How come squid's blog always knows who I am, but my own doesn't?
How exactly do you make those cool links to the things you are talking about?
How can I change my background color to purple instead of bright pink?

Fruit Trees

My parents owned and lived in the same home for 32 years and never once planted a fruit tree. Since we bought this house 6 years ago, T has planted 1 lemon tree, 2 peach trees, 1 plum tree, 1 cherry tree, 3 fig trees, 1 apricot tree, 1 nectarine tree, 1 orange tree, 1 apple tree, 2 pear trees, a grape vine, several berry varieties, and a few others that didn't survive. 1 of the peach trees and the orange tree died, and the cherry tree has not born fruit (apparently needs a partner). The berries didn't survive. But we have one heck of a fruit harvest. And if you've ever been to my place, you know we don't have a whole lot of land, nor do we spend an extraordinary amount of time these days in the garden. But oh how beautiful it is to lie in the hammock at sunset and feel the breeze blow threw the leaves and spot the ripened black figs that I plan to pick as soon as I can convince myself to arise.

Equation

I think there must be a mathematical equation that proves how the closer it gets to bedtime (theirs, not mine) the less patience I have.

HOT

Not as in hot mama. As in 97 degrees. As in I want to go to a cool dark bar and drink a beer. And hang out where no-one under age 21 is allowed. Where no one whines, including me.

SuperMoms

Why is it that the moms in my tribe feel like we are required to be supermoms 24/7 and if we miss for like 15 minutes then we consider ourselves to be total failures? Why cant we cut ourselves a break and say hey, I'm doing a really great job, and i do a really great job about 90% of the time, and that's amazing, and I'm amazing and my kids are amazing and if something slides every once in a while its because I'm just human and that's ok, it's a good thing even....

i think i'm going to try to model that attitude. Call me on it if i don't....

Good Day

Yesterday evening I had the most beautiful conversation with my oldest son.
Me: "How was your first day at school? Did you have a good day?"
A: "Good Day."

Ok, I know it is echolalia, and I set him up, but still, he doesn't repeat things that he doesn't understand or doesn't want to say. So I really think he was telling me he had a good day!

And B's teacher said that all things considered B had a good day too. Only problem was escaping. He is way too fast for them. Today she told me that he stole an oreo cookie from another little girl at recess. I love the fact that she is honest with me and reports these things!!!!

I think we're going to have a good year.

As I'm sitting here trying to figure why I am feeling sorry for myself, I realize that I was triggered by my adorable 5 year old neighbor, who I saw earlier this evening as she was getting in the car with her mama to go by crayons and I was schlepping groceries in from my car. "Tomorrow I'm starting kindergarten!" she gleefully told me. So i realized I am suffering from the what-I'm-missing-out-on blues. That was supposed to be me with the cute-as-a-button first-day-of-kindergarten little girl getting ready for Spanish Immersion School and already probably the most bilingual person (adults included) in the entire school.

I love my boys dearly. I really really do. I'm thrilled that BOTH A and B approximated the word school bus as we had our bedtime chat about going back to school tomorrow. I know that they understand that they'll go back to school on the school bus tomorrow, and that is AMAZING. But it's not italy.

B-T-S

Back-To-School always gives me the heebie-geebies. I guess that's what I really should have told the newspaper reporter. The hardest part about being a mom of special needs kids at back to school time is the harsh reminder of just how different our lives are. I'm just fucking tired of always being different, having kids who are different. I guess i need a lesson in accepting our differences.

Male Nurse

I go out of my way to identify and select women to be my doctors. As a general rule, I really don't like being touched by men I don't know. Even my dentist is a woman. So I was quite disconcerted at the doctors office the other day when my (female) doctor told me the NURSE would be right in to hook me up for an EKG which involved HIM going under my bra, all around my legs, and other (previously) private areas.

As you all know, I'm the last to favor gender-based stereotypes. So I shouldn't necessarily have been envisioning a female nurse. But it did throw me a bit.

Squid Saves the Day

I am still in the process of recovering from A Very Scary Incident During Which I Lose Visual Contact With My Youngest Son In a Dog-Horse-Chicken-Filled Ravine That I Can't Climb Out Of.

In our relationship, T is the one who is always looking out for potentially dangers and pitfalls for the boys, and I am the one always saying, oh, let's just try it, it will be ok, noone is going to get hurt. He thinks I'm slack and careless, I think he's a paranoid scaredy-cat. In the end, I think we probably balance each other out nicely.

But I am rethinking the level of risk to take now. After the Scary Incident. In part because I PANICKED. I always assumed that if I perceived my children to be in mortal danger, that I would react immediately and appropriately to rescue them. But in reality, I just stood at the top of the ravine and screamed my head off. Which of course had no affect on B. Or rather it had the affect he was looking for, and thus he just ran further down the ravine.

Fortunately, my hot mama friends came to the rescue. Squid bravely and calmly (something I couldn't muster at all, but had a wonderful affect on B) went down to the depths of the poison oak and sticker patches and pushed B up by the butt, then pushed me up by the butt since I was quite incapable of climbing up myself, while jennyalice and Mama B watched over A and Leelo and their own kids.

I was pretty disappointed in myself and my own inadequate reaction. And disappointed in B for blatantly disobeying and willfully entering into a dangerous situation. Proud of A for independently deciding that we were all where we shouldn't be and climbing back up to safety. And grateful for the tribe that helped me get through it.