The Little Things Are the Big Things

"I'm bored! I have no friends to play with!"

She's hiding under the covers, in her bed.

"Really? What do you think we should do?" I ask, pulling back her sheets to study her face.

"I want Madeline and Emma to come over to play." She says, folding her arms over her chest, disgusted with the drudgery she's had to endure since winter break started.

People.....this is BIG.

Another thing she's been doing is offering spontaneous displays of affection. She would always let me cuddle her, and seemed to enjoy the snuggling , but never would she think to initiate that kind of interaction on her own. I've been surprised a few times lately by little arms reaching around my hips as I do the dishes or a spontaneous kiss on the cheek. It's like getting to watch those thrilling first baby steps every day.

Todd saw a report on CNN yesterday about how autism isn't covered by most insurance companies, and how 80% of parents with a child on the spectrum get divorced. Since most couples list money as their # 1 source of conflict, I'm sure you see the pattern?

Riley's sensory processing disorder has certianly pushed us to the limit in almost every area, but it sure has made us appreciate the little things. Last night she laid on the bed with her recovering Daddy and read to him from her Pooh chapter book.

She is a little bite of heaven.

Organ Update

It's a bouncing baby appendix!

Delivered this evening around 6:00.

The surgeon is in awe of Todd's pain tolerance. He said most would be writhing in agony with an appendix like this, but Hot Toddy took it in stride.

(Why couldn't he have been the one to have the babies in this family)?

Thanks for all the well wishes. He'll be home tomorrow.

Big thanks to Kirby who dealt with the kiddos all afternoon and evening. She is a gem.

Hot Toddy, Hot Appendix?

So....I walk out of the bedroom this morning and Todd is there in his winter coat, ready to go to the walk-in clinic.

Todd NEVER calls in sick. He NEVER complains of pain.

The walk-in doc thinks it's his appendix, and sends him to a surgeon.

The surgeon is "unimpressed" with Todd's pain. He doesn't know about Mr. Stoic. If only I were there to let Mr. Doctor know that if Todd is complaining at all, beware. But I am home with the kids, talking to Todd via cell phone.

My friend Kirby will duck out of work and come over to take care of the kids if need be, but for the moment, we wait. I'm in the kitchen, preparing things for the kids to eat should I need to go. The kitchen work is soothing me and that in itself is weird. I've come a long way, baby!

So Todd drove himself from the surgeon's over to the hospital for blood work. If it shows an infection, they'll do a scan, and probably take out the ole appendix later today.

The hospital is two seconds away. We could walk there faster than we could find a parking spot. Still...it's driving me nuts not to be there, sitting with him in the waiting room.

He doesn't want me to bring the kids and I know he's right.

He's going to be in big trouble later for not waking me up since this pain evidently started last night.

Nine Years Ago Today...

It was the smartest thing I ever did.

*photo by Riley O'Neil (2006)

Positive News

When CNN decided not to renew Daryn Kagan's contract, she didn't act the victim. She decided to start an internet news service, dedicated to uplifting stories. Positive news.

I believe there is more joy in this world than sorrow. Acts of kindness far outnumber acts of cruelty. We would never be able to keep track of all the nice gestures afforded us, but oh how we hold onto the grievances.

Why?

In the movie,Cape of Good Hope,(Spiritual Cinema Circle),one of the main characters is working as a volunteer in a planetarium. In his home country he was an astronomy professor,but he's been displaced by war. When a child asks him how the planets stay in place, he tells them love is what holds the universe together.

Love is the glue.

We have it in abundance. Around us all the time, if we choose to see it. If you agree, please join me in supporting www.darynkagan.com.

Wishing You A Silent Night

http://www.asilentnightmovie.com/

This was shown at the Christmas Eve service at our church.

God bless!

Twas The Night Before Christmas: Blogger Style

Twas the night before Christmas and all through the house, not a creature was stirring cept the computer mouse.

The presents were neatly placed under the tree, but what’s everyone writing? I just have to see?

“Just a couple last clicks,” I say to Hot Toddy, who flies down the hall at the sound of the potty.

He nestles the little ones back in their beds as I read J.L.'s
blog for the latest she’s said.

Of course I must check in with Roughly Speaking, and see what Fully Caffeinated wrote just this evening?

The cuteness abounds on Beloved Monster , and Identity Crises is left still to conquer.

We musn’t forget about sweet Billet-doux ,Embroider the Silence and Zigi too.

I’ll pause for a moment to Reflect on the Pond , then see what’s happening with MacDonald Strong?

Suburban Turmoil will be good for a laugh, then Kelly , and maybe an Anxiety attack?

On Amber!
On Mama!
On Kari!
On Xanthe!

On Stacy!
On Mystic!
On Prema!
and Nancy!

The young ones are there, like Sorta Undead ; Courtney and Amanda swirl though my head.

So many! So many! Don’t leave any out!

“You must come to bed!” I hear Hot Toddy shout.

With eyes now gone bleary, I know he is right.

Merry Christmas Dear Bloggers and to all a good night.

Prayer Request

Darlene is in the middle of a nightmare. Please pray for her, and if you don't pray, send some loving energy her way. Same thing.

I just found her blog a few weeks ago. She writes beautifully, her pictures are gorgeous, but what I've been admiring most about her is the relationships she's forged with her adult children.

After reading her, I'd close my eyes and imagine the day mine would be grown. When they wouldn't need me so much. In my fantasy, Riley and Seth would be leaving the nest, and I'd be the proudest mama, encouraging them to fly higher and higher. Kind of like Darlene.

Darlene's son has been in a terrible car accident. She's right in the thick of it. Her child needs her now more than ever, and she is heroically rising to the occassion.

I hug my babies a little tighter tonight and am faced with a truth, known all along but not typically acknowledged. We're never done being their parents.

Play Therapy

At the playground, Seth picks up a stick.

Weilding it in front of him he yells. "I'm a stingray and this is my barb! If you get too close; if you scare me, I will stab you with it and kill you!"

His sister doesn't like to play rough, and this "killing" talk is something new. I'm thinking he picked it up at preschool? If I make a big deal of it, he'll certainly say it more. And the stingray did kill Steve Irwin.

When the Crocodile Hunter died, (on my little guy's 4th birthday, though we didn't tell him til the next day) Seth was pretty upset, but we hadn't heard anymore about stingrays in a long time.

Guess he's still working it through?

She Did It!

My little girl got up on stage this morning and performed in front of a gym full of "stoked for Christmas" children. The whole school was there for the sing-a-long and halfway through, the violinists got up and played. She was so great! She sang her little heart out and then played her violin with great concentration and enthusiasm. She wore her polka dot dress and her polka dot tights.

Nothing further for me for Christmas. Seeing her so happy and proud was more than I ever could have wished for.

The lump in my throat started at about 9:15 this morning and it's still with me.

Life is so good.

Not Just A Number

Check out Shari MacDonald Strong's blog for a beautiful pictorial of bringing a soldier home.

Many Victories!

Last week, at violin, Riley’s bow slid off the A string, and accidently hit E. All the other kids slide off the right notes all the time, and if they even notice, they don’t get too worked up about it.

Riley notices. Riley gets worked up. She SCREAMED. Full bodied, good duration.

The other kids turned, acknowledged, and seemingly unfazed, looked back to the teacher.

I grabbed Riley, her violin, her bow, and veered her away from the group. Time to talk her down.

As we walked out of the room, the grandmother of another student gave me a good glare.

In the hall, Riley and I practiced breathing.

First me. Then her.

Then me. Then her again.

She begged to go back to class. "I’m missing it!" She said, tears in her eyes.

"You have to show me you’re calm." I said, cupping her face in my hands.

Just then, the young school Principal appeared. He’d heard the scream.

"You need anything, Michelle?"

"Well, I’m kind of wondering where my son is?" I said, holding Riley tight to me, stroking her hair.

He scooted into the room and returned with Seth.

"Thanks." I said.

"No problem." He smiled, and off he went.

Soon, Riley rejoined the group without further incident.

Victories:

1) Riley wanted to keep going and was able to get it together and finish her lesson.
2) I felt supported by the Principal.
3) I didn't give a tinker's damn about the dirty look we got on our way out. I noted it, but didn't feel it in my body at all.
4) What previously would have ruined my afternoon, was a tiny blip in an otherwise great day.

Tuesday is her first concert.

I'm predicting another win for the team!

For All Your Love and Devotion......

Riley's school has a little gift fair that allows children to buy presents for their families (two bucks a gift). After the child picks out their gifts, they are put into little decorative bags, with the recipient's names on them. I'd already taken her shopping, allowing her to buy a gift for Seth, so I sent her to school with $4.00 in her envelope and told her to buy something for mommy and daddy. This is what she came home with. At least she thought of her brother?

Blogger @)(*!@(*$!!!!

Okay. I am sick of it. Blogger won't let me post comments to half of you. I've converted already, dammit! Maybe you haven't? But Jenny has converted, and still. It won't let me comment on her site. All my pithy little snippets, lost! Lost I tell you!

Back away from the computer, Michelle.

Back away.

Hit Publish.

There.

If you'll EVEN let me post this you rotton free blogger service.

A Cup Of Comfort

This is the cover to an anthology I've contributed to. It will be coming to your local book store in March!

As publication inches closer I'm starting to squirm.

My essay is too personal.

Too raw.

Perhaps we can re-think this?

N0?

Okay then.

Breathe.

I'll just breathe.

Okay.

I'm better now.

Masterpiece

My kids are not allowed in my writing space. It's the one corner of our house that is exclusively mine and I guard it.

Two nights ago, I stayed up late, cleaning “my room.” I turned it upside down, rearranging the furniture, shelving piles of books, throwing stuff away.

This morning, I had to run downstairs for something, and I let Seth tag along. I was just going to run in and out.

He ooooed and ahhhed about the “new room” and then he plopped down on the floor, grabbed the marker and the poster board I was going to use for something else, and without asking, went to town.

My mouth opened to tell him to stop. That’s mine. I’m going to use it for something, but for some reason I didn't speak?

He worked quickly, completing his task in about 90 seconds. It looked like he’d ruined my board with just a bunch of random scribbles.

“I made a picture for you!” He beamed.

“Wow Seth.” I said, still a little irritated.

“What is it?” I asked.

“It’s you, holding me.”

I Thought Flushable Meant You Could Flush It?

$350.00 for George.

George the plumber said our "main line" was clogged. This is why carrots and kitty litter spewed from our shower drain when Todd plunged the kitchen sink (with a brand new plunger bought specifically for this purpose, okay? The water wouldn't go down).

George says flushable kitty litter actually expands in the pipes.

George says flushable wipes are bad news too.












George was passionate about plumbing. I'm not making fun; he was actually cool.

George was here all morning and I didn't have to endure one eyefull of butt crack.

I'll stop now. I think I've given you enough to think about.

Occupational Therapy

I fell in love with Riley's occupational therapist the second I laid eyes on him. First of all, he's gorgeous. Blond hair. Hazel eyes.

But it's the way he motivates her that charms me. She'll do things for him she would never do for me. The day he convinced her to climb the steps to a big metal slide was astounding. As I watched her go down I stood there wondering, How'd he do that?

Part of it is the fact that he makes therapy fun. She laughs as he works on her proprioception, rolling her across a trampoline like a log, giving her input as to where her body is in space.

He works on increasing her grip strength by holding toys in his hands and getting her to pull them away from him.

He challenges her depth perception by taking her outside and encouraging her to walk down a big grassy hill sideways. She follows everything he does.

Today he used a hula-hoop. Together they got in the middle of it, and then he turned away from her and started to walk. The hoop was around her back and she had to follow him as he increased and decreased his speed. This was great fun and also helped her work on balance and movement.

After that, he told her to turn around and they both walked in place, in opposite directions, hoop to stomachs. They had to kind of balance there in space in order to not topple over. Riley laughed the whole time. Later, there was more grip work as she held the hoop and he tried repeatedly to pull it from her.

Our insurance company refuses to cover Riley's occupational therapy, but luckily this guy is cheap. True, he sometimes shows up wearing nothing but his Wiggles underpants, but for all he does for her, we let that slide.

His name is Seth O'Neil and he's worth every dime we're paying him.

Beautiful Photography

No time or money to travel just now? Why not get lost in this beautiful website?

I have no idea how I found it, but having landed there, I sure enjoyed the view.

And....he even offers free e-post cards!

Happy, happy, weekend Love. bugs!

The Secret Sauce

Todd and I met while working together at a hospital pharmacy in upstate NY. My first impression of him? He’s a total malcontent. Grouchy. What’s his problem anyway? It took me about two weeks to understand how poorly run this hospital system was at the time and to get on board with the bad attitude.

Anyway…..we worked the evening shift. Well, I did and for some reason he did a lot of switching to work evenings as well?

After work we’d all go out to a bar called The Amsterdam for a drink and I’d always get chicken fingers, which came in a basket, on top of a big pile of French fries. The whole fried extravaganza was something to behold, but the real magic was held in the Secret Sauce.

We’d spend hours, trying to crack the code. What’s in this stuff that makes it so good? We’d hold the little plastic cup up to the light in the dim bar,

“Is it pepper? Are those little flecks of pepper?” I'd ask.

My friend Heather would say, “There’s definitely mayo involved.”

“Yes, mayo, but what else? WHAT ELSE?" Becky would plead toward the heavens.

"I don't think it's pepper." Todd would say, shaking his head.

The waitress was no help. Even though she was Todd’s cousin, she claimed she didn’t know. The owner would not divulge, even to her staff, what was in the sauce.

Well, Todd and I got married, yada yada. We moved away.

One year I found out the Amsterdam was closing. It was sad, since we’d had so many good memories there. That December, I got a tiny package in the mail. It was from Heather and Becky. I opened the box, and on a slip of paper inside….the Sauce! On the very last day the bar was open, they went, and begged the owner for the recipe. Swearing them to secrecy, she finally caved.

When I realized what I held in my hands, I jumped up and down, squealing with delight. It was the best Christmas present ever.

So Anyway

Take lung cancer.

Imagine the government saying they were going to put big bucks into research to "combat" it. The only stipulation? No funding will go toward anything related to cigarettes. It'd be a joke, right?

--

The thing is you frickers who are slapping yourselves on the back, pretending to be a friend to children with autism to your constituents, all the while screwing 1 in 166 kids and their familes over. The thing is, it is me who feels sorry for you.

No matter how much money you have. No matter how much political power you hold. No matter how much executive power you hold. No matter what, you are examples of the worst kind of poverty. You are so out of touch with who you are; power and money matter more to you than humanity. My child suffers, but it is your children I feel sorriest for. No matter what we've been through, there is still love in my family.

I guarantee there is none in yours. I gaurantee your children suffer more than mine. Autism or not.

There is no keeping the truth from light. It always has out in the end.

Always.

Whatever Will They Do?

So, do y’all know that our government, on more than one occassion has tried to stick riders onto unrelated bills (such as the Homeland Security Bill) that would exempt pharmaceutical companies from being held accountable for any adverse reactions associated with immunizations?

And did you also know that in an effort to act like they give a tinker’s damn about autistic kids, there is a Combating Autism Bill out there, but now they’re trying to stick a tiny little something or other into it which would make sure no funding goes toward researching "environmental causes" of the epidemic?

Did you know that our government is OWNED by the pharmaceutical industry?

Today we find out the big hush hush. Did Congress or didn't it strip the autism bill of language that would provide funding for research into whether mercury in vaccinations caused the autism explosion?

Care to wager a guess?

Shake It Like a Polaroid Picture

My children have fallen in love with the Peanuts Gang this year.

The way they throw the word "stupid" around with utter abandon really bothers Riley, but the allure of Snoopy and his shenanigans has allowed her to hang in there, despite her moral convictions. Her and Seth crack up over the voice of the adults, "wa-wamp-wa-wump-wump." Some things never change.

Then again some do.

Tonight, I'm going to work on the steps the girl in the purple, (in front of Pigpen on the bass) is doing. We'll see if Todd can master the moves of the boy in the green shirt(arms out in front).

Heyya!

We're Different That Way

I have a pistaccio injury. The nail on my right thumb feels as if someone's been trying to tug it loose with a screwdriver all day. Presently, I wait for Todd to get home from work and to feel sorry for me, offering to do what he can, perhaps cracking open the rest of the pistaccio's? Or maybe taking them away all together since I can't seem to back away from the bowl myself. He'll definately kiss my thumb.

Todd is just the opposite. He has to be limping, or bleeding before he'll tell me of an injury. It took me five years of marriage before I realized that if he's not speaking to me, he's sick. I'd walk around muttering to myself, "What's HIS problem anyway?"
Hours or sometimes a day later, I'd find him puking or sweating with a high fever. Duh! "Of course he isn't mad at me. How could he ever be mad at moi?" I mean, "Poor baby, what can I do to help?"

Anyway, my thumb hurts. Life is full of challenges. But he'll be home in about 15 minutes. Until then, I think I'm gonna make it.

She Likes the Penis? Say what?

This is Julie Powell, author of Julie & Julia, a memoir about a woman who decided to cook every recipe in Julia Child's Mastering the Art of French Cooking over the course of one year. It's a very funny book, especially for the blogging crowd.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KMZnJQixq58&NR

If you're offended by the "F" word or by eating animals, this book isn't for you. If the word penis, (pea-ness) offends you, relax. To my recollection, she didn't use it once in the book.

Pa Rum Pum Pum Pum

Decorated the tree tonight. Christmas music played in the background.

Come they told me
Pa rum pum pum pum
A new born King to see
Pa rum pum pum pum

Todd: “Seth! Get down off the ladder. If I need to tell you again you are going to your room.”

Our finest gifts we bring
Pa rum pum pum pum
To lay before the kIng
Pa rum pum pum pum,
rum pum pum pum,
rum pum pum pum


ME: “Seth! DO NOT HIT your sister! You go sit in the chair until I tell you to get up. Do you hear me?”

So to honor Him
Pa rum pum pum pum
When we come

Riley: “Wahhhhhhh! This one doesn’t have a hook! Forget it. I’m not going to put up any more ornaments!”

Little baby
Pa rum pum pum pum
I am a poor boy too
Pa rum pum pum pum
I have no gift to bring
Pa rum pum pum pum
That's fit to give our King
Pa rum pum pum pum,
rum pum pum pum,
rum pum pum pum

Me: “Seth, you may not get out the rest of the decorations. Mommy will get them out after we finish with the tree.”

Shall I play for you
Pa rum pum pum pum
On my drum

Todd: “SETH!”

Mary nodded
Pa rum pum pum pum
The ox and lamb kept time
Pa rum pum pum pum
I played my drum for Him
Pa rum pum pum pum
I played my best for Him
Pa rum pum pum pum,
rum pum pum pum,
rum pum pum pum

Me: “C’mon Riley. Get over here and help.”

Then He smiled at me
Pa rum pum pum pum

Me: “You think he really smiled? I mean, he was supposed to be a newborn. They don't usually smile til about 6-8 weeks. You think it was just gas?”

Todd: “Yeah, it probably was gas, although he was a pretty special baby, so one never knows?"

Me and my drum

Me and my drum