The Other Woman

Seth finished up his first year of preschool today. For months I arrived just a few minutes early to pick him up, hoping to catch a glimpse of him in that world. Socializing, scrubbing carrots, putting his toys away. Last week, a little too late mind you, Seth told me I was no longer to show up early because I interrupted his dancing. Seems I was cramping his style. I’m amazed the year is gone and with it goes his babyhood.

Flash back to the open house for parents at the beginning of the year. I was ready for this. I couldn’t wait to get both kids out of my hair. Half-days sounded like heaven to me. Bring it on!

But there’s Seth’s new teacher and she’s lovely. Just lovely. I was all set to hand him off to a grandmotherly type. This teacher is young and pretty. Her long blond ringlets fall almost to her waist. She tells us how much she loves working with children, especially little ones. She tells us how she knew Montessori was her calling. She’s warm, caring, everything I want Seth’s first teacher to be. My throat tightens.

My baby’s being kidnapped by a beautiful celestial fairy and I’m afraid she’ll do a better job than me!

In the car I say, “I think I feel jealous?”

Todd chuckles.

I frown.

It’s so crazy? So stupid. I had none of these same feelings when Riley went to preschool. What’s the deal?

“It’s because he’s the baby.” Todd says.

I’d like to go along with that, but the truth is I’m jealous not because he’s my baby, but because he’s my boy. How messed up is that?

That weekend Todd’s parents were in town and I told my mother-in-law about my unexpected feelings.

“You have no idea.” she said. “Wait til’ he gets married and moves away. It breaks your heart!”

Yikes! Seth’s wedding? I can’t even go there.

That night, when I check on Seth sleeping, I think about what she said. What would it be like to watch Seth move away? It's too gut wrenching to even imagine. I'm the one he loves. A hundred times a day he looks at me with longing in his eyes, heart fully exposed on his sleeve, "Mommy, I want you." He says.

I feel for Todd's mother. I'm so sorry your heart was broken when we moved.

The year went by quickly, and it turns out, Seth’s teacher (the other woman) was as wonderful as I thought she’d be and he did love her. I loved her too. As an added bonus... shortly into the school year, another lovely teacher came on board who specializes in movement and dance. Life at home can be crazy, but at school Seth got to relax, learn, socialize, dance and have fun. The two teachers together made his first school experience the best I could ever have dreamed of for him. Don't hate them because they're beautiful.

As I walk with him hand in hand from the picnic on his last day, I think of Todd's mother's words. I scoop him up and inhale my little golden boy while I can.

Elle Belle Bracelets

Something about little girls going through things they shoudn't have to deal with tugs at my heart. Check out this little cutie's website. She's selling bracelets to help her parents pay for medical costs. I bought two.

http://www.ellebellebracelets.com/

What a great kid!

Forgiving Nature

Don't you just love when you find a new blog that speaks to you?

I got lost in cyber space (as I often do), and came across Forgiving Nature. Check out the post titled Imagine and watch a very young Mr. Rogers kick some congressional butt with nothing but love.

http://forgivingnature.blogspot.com/

Thanks Sandra! I look forward to reading more of your work.

Off She Goes

You never want this moment to arrive. Riley’s cat has been missing for a week. On occasion, Crystal the cat, stayed out all night, but she was always at the front door in the morning, eager for her food bowl. I’ve called all the vets, the animal shelters. I've checked the local papers. She’s nowhere to be found.

We got Crystal at the Humane Society. She stuck her paw out of the cage, and reached for me. She’s a beautiful cat. Part Siamese, part tabby, with huge, crystal blue eyes. She’s one of those rare cats who lets little kids carry her all over the place without ever scratching them.

When I was a little girl, my cat "ran away." She actually got hit by a car but my parents didn’t want to tell me that. For a long time I thought my cat didn’t love me. That I wasn’t a good mother. That I must have done something awful for her to want to leave me. That can’t happen to Riley. We have to tell the kids, but what? But how?

My friend Anna suggested I explain it as Crystal going toward something rather than running away. It was exactly the advice I needed.

Yesterday, we sat on the floor together holding pictures of Crystal.

I started,

"We think Crystal decided it was time to go. She went. Since she is a cat, and doesn’t have words, she can’t tell us where she went, but she’s been gone for many days, and usually when cats go for that long, they don’t come back. She must have had other places she had to go and other things she was supposed to do.

We don’t know where she went? It’s possible she went away to die. Sometimes animals do that. Or she might have had a kitty adventure she needed to get to, we just don’t know? We do know that God is always with her, and she is safe, Crystal is okay.

We also know that Crystal loved you very, very much. You were such good and loving pet owners. She couldn’t have asked for a better little girl and boy for her family. Every time she purred, it was because she felt so happy and safe and loved with you."

Riley’s bottom lip came out. Her big sad eyes looked down at her picture and then she cried just a little. I held her hand.

Todd said, "We’re going to miss her very much. It’s okay to be sad."

He rubbed Seth's back as this little three year old tried to comprehend what we were telling him. Seth stared at his picture with his head bowed down, his face sad.

Unprompted, Riley got up and took Crystal’s picture to her altar. It’s a little tin bin, turned upside down with a red cloth covering it. On top, are all her precious things. A pine cone. A picture of Todd and me. A picture of the Backyardigans, a clarinet reed she got from a staff member at her old school. She placed Crystal’s picture on it and sat a while.

When she came back, I suggested we think of adventures Crystal might have gone on.

"Crystal visits the Backyardigans!" Riley shouted.

"I want Crystal to visit the Wiggles," Seth said.

I drew pictures of Crystal visiting their favorite cartoon characters and they spent the evening coloring them. We planned on doing more the next day.

Crystal goes to college!

Crystal goes to church!

Crystal goes to Africa!

Crystal takes the train!

Crystal goes to outer space!

We’ll staple them together and make a little book.

After we put the kids to bed Todd and I fell into each other. I sighed. It was hard, but it went better than I ever imagined it would.

Today when I pulled into the driveway after picking up the kids from school, there were vultures flying in the wooded ravine behind our house. I scooted the kids off to the playroom and watched out the window as Todd went to investigate. The big ugly birds flew away as he approached. When he got to the spot they’d been, he stopped, then turned around too quickly. I knew it was her.


Off you go pretty girl, to your next adventure.

Thank you for this one, with us.

More Love

How many times do you hear a blood curdling scream before 8:00 AM? Screams that would make the neighbors want to call the police?

Only three for us this morning. Once after suggesting the potty at wake-up. Once during hair brushing. Once fighting with her brother over a toy. We consider only three of these screams a pretty good start to the day.

A Course in Miracles says, "if it doesn’t look like love, it must be fear." No doubt, my daughter steeps in fear. Her brain takes mere suggestions as invasions. The whole world is a threat.

A Course in Miracles says in every moment we are either extending love, or calling for love.

More times than I can count, I’ve countered her call for love with anger. I am so tired of the screams.

A Course in Miracles says love is the answer to every problem.

Yesterday I bought a dozen frames at the dollar store. They’re actually pretty cute. Using colorful construction paper I printed off the words MORE LOVE, and placed these words in the frames.

Today I will hang them all over the house, to remind myself that her screams aren’t designed to torture me. They’re not even about me.

All I can do is hold on, hold her, and offer more love.

Taking the Long Way

My new Dixie Chicks CD arrived today in the mail! I can't even explain how much I love them. They are so talented and they represent so many good moments in my life over the last ten years. You know how music does that? Riley knows every word to every song on their past CD's. When the fiddle plays she's yelling, "Go Marti!" When she hears the banjo...."Emily needs to find that thing!" And of course...."Sing it Natalie!" is a favorite.

The new CD titled Taking the Long Way plays as I type this, and all is well.

The Honeymoon's Over

We’re laying in bed and as I reach over to click off the light, I get a whiff. In the dark, I give my armpit a sniff.

"Oh my God. I think I have BO."

On a mission to rid our family of metals, I’ve switched to a "natural deodorant," one that doesn’t contain aluminum.

Todd says,

"Yeah, that new deodorant isn’t really making the 24 hour mark."

What? Excuse me?

Sitting up, I flick on the light.

"Are you saying I stink?"

Todd has never said anything like that to me before. Frankly, no one has ever told me I stink, at least not in a literal sense.

"I’m just saying, there’s been a couple of times....."

"Oh my God! I can’t believe you just said that?"

"What? You don’t want to know?"

"Would you prefer I smell like a French whore?"

Apologies to the French. Apologies to the whores.

"Could we get a happy medium?" He laughs.

I flick off the light. Do I say anything about the stench he leaves in the bathroom everyday? Well, yeah, I guess I do. His two dainty squirts of air freshener do nothing to cover it up. You gotta lay on that nozzle to get rid of man-stink like that, baby.

Tired, I sigh. We’ve been married eight years. We’ve had a good run, but I guess the honeymoon's over.

I Still Got It (kind of)

I met Ariel Meadow Stallings at Jennifer Lauck's writing workshop. She’s one of those larger than life people. Quirkiness, mixed with intelligence and fun. She’s also a rock star blogger, getting approximately a trillion hits a day. Her site has tons of pictures and many of them involve her obsession with hula hooping. There are glorious photos of Ariel’s beautiful feminine silohette. Hooping in front of a golden sunset. Hooping in front of a gorgeous shore. Breathtaking, really.

So I’m outside with the kids the other day and....wait a second....we have hoola hoops, don't we? Inspired by Ariel, I find one and give it a spin. Immediately it falls to the ground. Undeterred, I try again. What’s the deal? I used to be able to do this when I was a kid? Don’t I have bigger hips now? Shouldn’t I be able to keep this thing up? But noooooo. Crash, crash, crash!

Sadly, it appears....I’ve lost my groove.

Is it the pregnancies that did it? Have I become out of touch with my body over the years? I used to go out dancing all the time! Have I completely lost my rhthym? Dejected, I roll the hoop across the yard, and Seth takes off chasing after it. When it falls to the grass he picks it up and puts it over his head, wearing the hoop around like a giant necklace.

I stew about it for a while and later, I e-mail Ariel.

"Just how the hell do you hoola-hoop anyway?"

She responds promptly, assuring me, "It’s not you, it’s the hoop. Adults need adult size hoops!"

Whew!

Ariel sends me links to websites where I can get instructions on making my own grown-up hoop. Within hours I’m at Lowes, getting supplies. By nightfall... girlfriend got her groove back..oh yeah...oh yeah!

True, I’m no Ariel. I can’t seem to pull off sexy with my hoop. When I’m hooping, Todd’s look isn’t one of longing, it verges more on the edge of uproarious laughter, but hey, I’ll take it. Besides, doesn’t laughter sometimes lead to sex?

Look for Ariel Meadow Stalling's book, Offbeat Weddings due out December 2006. It features non-traditional weddings, including her own, where hoola hoops were heavily involved.

Baby Blog Book Tour

Why do babies lose the hair they are born with? Author Jennifer Margulis, has the answer to this and many other questions about babies, in her new book, Why Babies Do That? Baffling Baby Behavior Explained. Ms. Margulis stops by my blog today for an interview as part of her Baby Blog Book Tour:

M: There are dozens of "Why do babies...." questions in your book. Did you glean all your answers from first hand experience with your own children, or was there more research involved?

J: I did several months of research for this book--interviewing specialists, reading scientific literature (hard to understand but fascinating) and child development books. So, yes, there is a lot of research behind it. I was also informed by my own three children, and by the work I did in a past life on a child survival campaign in West Africa.

M: Wow! West Africa sounds like a whole other topic I'd like to hear about! Focus, Michelle, focus.

M: Did you learn anything that surprised you about babies during the writing of this book?

J: I was most surprised by how common head banging is in otherwise perfectly normal babies.

M: Was there something in particular you wish you had known about babies when you were a new mom?

J: So many things! But I'm not sure they are knowable. Things like "It's hard to kill a newborn," which a friend's mom told her (after she banged her daughter's head against a counter by mistake and felt completely miserable about it). I also wish, honestly, that I had read more books by moms and fewer books by "specialists" as the fear factor is so much higher in the expert advice books.

M: While this book is presumably for parents, I see it as a great resource for older siblings and babysitters. I was 15 when my mom had twins and would have loved these explanations. What's the response been to your book thus far?

J: It's been very positive. Actually, I just found out from my publisher that the book won an award--for best reference book of the year from the Midwest Independent Publishers Association. A woman bought a copy for her mom, who has alzheimer's. And the kids in my daughter's blended class (grades 1-5) are reading it right now. So I think you are right, it has a wide appeal.

M: The babies pictured in the book are so darn squishy and cute! Did you get to pick the pictures? Are any of them your children?

J: None of them are mine, unfortunately. The photographer is based in Western Massachusetts. His name is Paul Franz. I love the pictures too. And he had a newborn right before the book went to print and he did manage to sneak in a few pictures of his daughter!

M: What's the best part of being a mama writer?

J: There are so many great things about being a mama writer. I love being able to make my own schedule and spend time with my kids. And I like working from home and getting paid to write about my little ones (I write a lot about other things too but it's nice to be keeping that record of their lives--for them and for me).

Thanks for stopping by Jennifer!

For info on Why Babies Do That and other Jennifer Margulis books go to:

http://www.toddlertruestories.com/whybabies.html

Over the Cliff?

While attending the DAN!(Defeat Autism Now) conference in DC, I met an amazing mom on the train. Me and my friend got to talking with her, totally missed the metro stop, wound up far from where we should have been, and I gained a valuable "expert." With autistic spectrum disorders, the moms are the experts. Each one of us hold golden nuggets that somehow benefit the next one. It's an exclusive but growing sisterhood any of us would love not to be a part of.

In our initial train conversation, I don't know who brought it up first, but all three of us ASD moms had fantasies about strapping the child in the car and driving off a cliff. No we don't really want to die, and no, we don't want to kill our children; we just want to end the madness. We fantasize about getting a break and also about giving our husbands and other children a chance at normalcy and peace.

Kathy, my new train friend, recently sent me this link http://www.autismspeaks.org/sponsoredevents/autism_every_day.php to a 13 minute film called Autism Every Day. It was shown at a fundraiser in New York City on May 9th. In it, lo and behold...one of the mothers interviewed mentions the "death by car" fantasy.

What this says to me is we need help! How can you help? Easily. Click on the link. Watch the video. You don't have to send money. You don't have to write your congressmen. Just watch the video, hold a space of compassion in your heart for us, and know. Just know.

Mockingbird

In the car....

"Mock, yeah!"

"Ing, Yeah!"

"Bird, Yeah!"

"Yeah, Yeah!"

Riley, almost six, cries out, "Hey, I used to like this song when I was little!"

It's true, she did. I recently dug out the CD from a box that never got unpacked during our move a year and a half ago.

Three year old Seth furrows his brow, trying to remember the song. It's clear he doesn't, but soon enough he's groovin' along in his car seat, enjoying James & Carly with us.

We pull into the book store parking lot, and as the song ends Seth says, "I think I was still in heaven when you liked that song Riley."

Toot! Toot!

What's that? The sound of my own horn? Okay, I admit it, but indulge me, will you? Today I am published in Literary Mama! Literary Mama!

http://www.literarymama.com/creativenonfiction/archives/001074.html


It’s a piece I started at Tara Mandala( www.taramandala.org ) under the tutelage of the fabulous Jennifer Lauck ( www.jenniferlauck.com ). She'd instructed us to work with space. I’m pretty sure her idea was vast space. Sky-like space. Well….space is there in my piece, but you have to look hard to find it. I guess I've never been very good at following directions?

Anyway….this piece is very near and dear to my heart. I am honored to have it appear in Literary Mama. Please read it...and bring the tissues.

One Idiot,One Savant

Since she was a toddler, my daughter has shown a gift for music. Like many kids with autistic spectrum disorders, she has highly sensitive ears. My guess...her hearing acuity is linked to her ability to learn music and language easily. She has perfect pitch and an almost photographic memory for melody and rhythm. She sings like an angel.

When she was almost four, I decided to encourage this gift. We purchased a piano and she loved it. She’d plunk away with one finger, happily figuring out her favorite tunes. I had her evaluated at a music conservatory near our home, and was thrilled the director saw what I did. He said they would sign her up for lessons though most kids don’t start piano for at least another year or two.

We moved before she could begin lessons, but soon after settling into our new home I found a teacher who was patient and kind. She was not adverse to working with a special needs child. This is it, I thought!

From day one, Riley balked. Despite the fact that piano came easily to her, the thought of hitting a wrong note during her lessons was too much for her to bear. She’d scream and cry. She'd pound the keys with her little fists or flat out refuse to play. One time she actually bucked us both off the piano bench.

Practicing at home was just as bad. Everyday I forced the issue. Twenty minutes worth of practice dragged on for over an hour, leaving both of us exhausted. I was determined she play. She was determined not to. After several months of this I finally had to look in the mirror and ask myself, "Just what the hell are you doing and who is this for?"

What I had to face was ugly. Somewhere, behind my wanting this, for her, I had to cop up to a feeling of, "If my child is going to be special needs, she’s also going to be gifted, damn it." She may or may not be a musical savant, but there was clearly only one idiot involved, and it was me.

Immediately I stopped her lessons. Shortly thereafter, upon some good advice, I began lessons myself.

Riley plays on the floor with her brother while I practice. She doesn’t seem to be paying attention until...."Mommy, that piece is supposed to be played slower! Or "Mommy you hit the wrong note!"

I tell her, "Yep, we all make mistakes. That’s part of learning."

It’s been almost a year since those forced lessons and still I torture myself. What if I squelched her love of music? What if I made her hate the piano? And it occurs to me, just like Riley, I’m freaking out over making a mistake.

A mistake.

I’m sorry Riley. I made a mistake.

Today she sat at the piano and plunked out a classical piece she learned watching Little Einsteins on the Disney Channel. After her song she took a big bow, rising with a huge grin.

I smile. I breathe. I tell myself, "She’s okay."

and...

"We all make mistakes, that’s part of learning."

Breaking Up Is Hard To Do

With a big, deep breath I put the letter in the mailbox. Huge sigh. We’re through. I’m firing one of my daughter’s therapists.

Breaking up has always been terrifying for me. Once, when I was very young, I stayed in a relationship for over three years when I had been over him at one. The thought of hurting his feelings...of confrontation... was more scary to me than remaining in a relationship that was suffocating.

But I’m a big girl now. I’ve had therapy. I’ve read and read and then read some more. I’ve had martial arts training. I even helped teach a full contact self defense class. While I’m confident I could diffuse most attacks before they start with a loud mama lion roar, I’ve the capability of physically knocking out an assailant with a swift axe kick to the head.. Grrrrr.....Don’t mess.

I knew I was going to write the letter today. I did my morning meditation to prepare. The message I came away with was "tell the truth." The words came out. I expressed myself clearly. I stood up for myself and my daughter. I’m ending a relationship that isn’t good for us.

Axe! Axe! Axe! ROAR!!!!!!!!!

http://www.dcimpact.org/

Normal People Scare Me

Last night my husband and I watched the film Normal People Scare Me on DVD. One of its directors is an autistic teenager named Taylor Cross. In the documentary, Cross conducts scores of interviews with autistic teens and kids and discusses being autistic himself.

The movie beautifully depicts the "spectrum" of the disorder. It shows kids at all levels of functioning; all falling under the big umbrella that is autism. Some kids were sad, talking of being picked on, tricked, and left out. Almost every kid interviewed talked of the sound sensitivity HELL they experience.

It was interesting to see that while some children in the film hated being autistic, others have come to accept it and even value their autism. Some expressed the view that everyone is different in some way, and being autistic just happens to be what sets them apart. While the movie did show some positive sides to autism, I didn’t walk away with the feeling they were trying to make autism cool. That would have bugged me. Autism is not cool. The reality of it is often a nightmare.

Family members interviewed spoke of being irrevocably changed. They love more. They have deep wells of compassion. They often make meaning out of adversity, changing their lives in dramatic ways to help not only their child, but many others. One of the best parts of the film were the interviews with Taylor Cross’s little brother. He spoke with unbelievable depth about what it's like growing up with an autistic sibling. This family clearly has not one special son, but two.

While the take home message of this film isn’t "autism is cool," you just can’t walk away from it without being struck by how incredibly cool Taylor Cross is. He's smart, hip, funny and incredibly gifted. This is his first film, but watch out for him. Not because he’s autistic, but because he’s a brilliant film maker.

Info on Normal People Scare Me, can be found at http://www.normalfilms.com/.

Why Autism Sucks: A Parent's Perspective

1) Your child is nervous, anxious, fighting to keep it together on a minute by minute basis.

2) Your child often loses this battle, screaming, falling apart in a full blown panic.

3) In your helplessness and frustration you sometimes lose compassion and scream at your child, or say something awful, making a bad situation worse.

4) People think your child is ill-behaved or rude.

5) People think you are a bad parent.

6) People don’t invite you for play dates.

7) Unlike kids with other developmental issues (my friend’s child with Down Syndrome has had services thrown at him since birth) medical insurance refuses to cover most therapies for autism, citing there is no FDA approval for the very therapies that are working for these kids. If you are poor, and you have an autistic child, the situation is quite hopeless. If you are not poor, you will be soon.

8) Any event that seems like fun, probably won’t be.

9) Everything’s a battle. Potty, getting dressed, etc. Getting out the door can take an hour.

10) You worry about your child’s social isolation and at the same time resent the child for socially isolating you. Then you feel guilty for thinking of yourself.


* One day I'll write a list of the gifts autism has brought to me and our family. But not this day. No, not today.

And when she was good, she was very very good...

Riley sang this today: "There was a little girl and she had a little curl, right in the middle of her forehead. And when she was good, she was very very good, and when she was bad she was whore-in.'