After School......

Yeterday, Riley's new friend T. (the one who walks her into school most days) joined us on the playground for a couple of minutes. Riley grabbed a swing, and T. took the one next to her, when another, bigger girl came up, and said to T., "Get off that swing. I want to use it!"

T., a streetwise kid, didn't budge, but here's the surprising part...

Riley said, loudly, "Hey! She's my friend!"

Now, true, Riley didn't quite "get" the social implication that this girl could have flattened her, and might have if I wasn't standing there.

However....she did "get" the whole scenario. She understood an injustice was occuring, and attempted to stand up for her friend.

In the end, I evil-eyed the girl and she went away.

And we all lived happily ever after.

I have a really good evil-eye.

How 'Bout a Hug?

((((( )))))

http://www.veoh.com/videos/v370186JyKwxZ8J



http://hugnation.com/#about

All I'm Sayin', (in Blue)

By LINDSEY TANNER, AP Medical Writer 2 hours, 23 minutes ago
CHICAGO - The country's leading pediatricians group is making its strongest push yet to have all children screened for autism twice by age 2, warning of symptoms such as babies who don't babble at 9 months and 1-year-olds who don't point to toys.
Many children are developing perfectly normally and regress after they are two years old.
The advice is meant to help both parents and doctors spot autism sooner. There is no cure for the disorder(there are many recovered children), but experts say that early therapy can lessen its severity.

Symptoms to watch for and the call for early screening come in two new reports. They are being released by the American Academy of Pediatrics on Monday at its annual meeting in San Francisco and will appear in the November issue of the journal Pediatrics and on the group's Web site — http://www.aap.org/.

The reports list numerous warning signs, such as a 4-month-old not smiling at the sound of Mom or Dad's voice, or the loss of language or social skills at any age. My daughter smiled at 6 weeks old and kept smiling. She talked early and never lost her language.
Experts say one in 150 U.S. children have the troubling developmental disorder.
"Parents come into your office now saying 'I'm worried about autism.' Ten years ago, they didn't know what it was," ten years ago it was only one in 10,000 children said Dr. Chris Johnson of the University of Texas Health Science Center in San Antonio. She co-authored the reports.

The academy's renewed effort reflects growing awareness since its first autism guidelines in 2001(hard not to be aware when it's now one in 84 boys). A 2006 policy statement urged autism screening for all children at their regular doctor visits at age 18 months and 24 months. Three different pediatricians and one neurodevelopmental specialist at a prestigious childhood medical center did not recognize symptoms in Riley and blew me off completely when she was three years old.
The authors caution that not all children who display a few of these symptoms are autistic and they said parents shouldn't overreact(typical insulting language used by physicians when they don't have an answer) to quirky behavior.
Just because a child likes to line up toy cars or has temper tantrums "doesn't mean you need to have concern, if they're also interacting socially and also pretending with toys and communicating well," (Riley lined up toys, tantrumed, and communicated well) said co-author Dr. Scott Myers, a neurodevelopmental pediatrician in Danville, Pa.
"With awareness comes concern when there doesn't always need to be," he said. "These resources will help educate the reader as to which things you really need to be concerned about." If the mother is concerned, the doctor damn well better be concerned. Bottom line.
Another educational tool, a Web site that debuted in mid-October, offers dozens of video clips of autistic kids contrasted with unaffected children's behavior. That Web site — http://us.rd.yahoo.com/dailynews/ap/ap_on_he_me/storytext/autism_screening/25002893/SIG=10u41jtkj/*http://www.autismspeaks.org/ — is sponsored by two nonprofit advocacy groups: Autism Speaks (The extremely wealthy "connected" founders of Autism Speaks basically sold their daughter down the river when she implicated vaccines as the cause of her child's autism on the Oprah Winfrey show) and First Signs. They hope the site will promote early diagnosis and treatment to help children with autism lead more normal lives.
The two new reports say children with suspected autism should start treatment even before a formal diagnosis. They also warn parents about the special diets (that have clearly helped sooooooooo many children) and alternative treatments (the things that have helped Riey most) endorsed by(brave) celebrities, saying there's no proof those work. Riley is proof.

No time for your God damned double blind placebo controlled studies. RILEY IS PROOF.

Recommended treatment should include at least 25 hours a week of intensive behavior-based therapy (which the average family cannot afford), including educational activities and speech therapy, according to the reports. They list several specific approaches that have been shown to help.
For very young children, therapy typically involves fun activities, such as bouncing balls back and forth or sharing toys to develop social skills; there is repeated praise for eye contact and other behavior autistic children often avoid.
Mary Grace Mauney, an 18-year-old high school senior from Lilburn, Ga., has a mild form of autism that wasn't diagnosed until she was 9(a failure of her doctors, perhaps understandable then, unconscionable now).
As a young girl, she didn't smile, spoke in a very formal manner and began to repeat the last word or syllable of her sentences. She was prone to intense tantrums, but only outside school you're lucky. There, she excelled and was in gifted classes. Yes, these children have many gifts.
"I took her to a therapist and they said she was just very sensitive and very intense and very creative," said her mother, Maureen, 54. Blew you off, huh mom?
Pediatricians should send such children for "early intervention as soon as you even think there's a problem," Johnson said.
Dr. Ruby Roy, a pediatrician with Loyola University Medical Center, who treats at least 20 autistic children, applauded the reports.
"This is a disorder that is often missed, especially when it's mild, and the mild kids are the ones ... who can be helped the most," Roy said.
Dr. Dirk Steinert, who treats children and adults at Columbia St. Mary's clinic in suburban Milwaukee, said the push for early autism screening is important — but that it's tough to squeeze it into a child's regular wellness checkup. Some pediatricians have tried scheduling a visit just to check for developmental problems, when children are 2 1/2. The problem is that insurance doesn't always cover these extra visits, Steinert said.

Insurance has covered very little on the path to Riley's recovery. Very little.

And that's all I'm sayin'.

Hope, Anyone?

Sitting in Ruby Tuesdays on Saturday, watching Riley enjoy her meal, I flashed back to a time in the not so distant past, when she could not eat in a situation where one other person besides our immediate four were at the table.

Holidays, she'd self seclude in another room with her plate.

The smells.
The chatter.
The clanking of all the silverware.
The lips smacking.
The people chewing.

It was too much for her.
It literally made her gag.

If we forced the issue, it would guarantee a major meltdown.
The holiday dinner, the family occasion, would be ruined.

When she was three, and her symptoms were at their worst, I wound up having panic attacks. Todd ended up in the hospital with a false heart attack on two occasions. Our family was in crises.

This past Saturday, the thought didn't even occur to us that she would not be able to eat at the restaurant. We just went in, like it was nothing.

I don't have panic attacks any more.
Todd doesn't have fake heart attacks.

I can't remember the last time she truly melted down, and it used to be a multiple daily occurrence.

Don't believe anyone who says there is nothing that can be done.

And if you're just hanging on,
please, partake of my hope.

I prepared it today, just for you.

Riley, It's a GIRL Name

It never occurred to me how many times in her life Riley would have to face,

"That's a boys name."

To us, "Riley" was a girl's name. Or, it could go either way. But kids are so black/white. If they've heard it as a boy's name first, it's a boy's name in their minds. Not much different from adults, I guess.

I'd been wondering why she kept talking about going by her middle name, when she grows up, "Like you do Mommy."

And then I heard the "boys name" thing on the playground one too many times.

So, we had a little chat.

"Riley, do you know who thinks your name is beautiful for a girl? The first person we told your name to?"

"Who?"

"Grammy."

Riley's eyes light up.

"And Grammy is very girlish, isn't she?"

Riley smiles and says, "Yeah." Imagining Todd's mom, with all her necklaces and rings and her house so fancy and beautiful. Her hair, clothes, and make-up just right.

"So don't you think she ought to know?"

Riley nods her head, slowly, letting it all sink in.

She smiles big and says, "Yeah."

"Sweetie, just because other kids don't know Riley can be a girl's name does not mean it isn't a pretty name. It just means they don't know something. You tell them Riley can also be a girl's name. Okay?"

"Okay."

Later that week, I hadn't caught the first part of the conversation, but my ears tuned in when I heard Riley from across the playground tell another child,

"It's also a girl's name."

The other girl shrugged, "Okay."

And so it is.

The Secret

Many of you have probably seen or at least heard of The Secret. There are two versions; the first included Esther Hicks, the second did not. Esther Hicks is the woman who channels the teachings of Abraham. When The Secret took off, they edited her out, under the premise that mainstream society would not be comfortable with channeled material, (even though the whole film was based on Abraham's teachings).

These teachings have touched me so profoundly, I don't really care what anyone thinks about me reading/listening to/or absorbing them. I am grateful for Esther Hicks, but for me it's more about the message than the messenger.

If you listen, you can find inspired word everywhere. It does not have a limited number of sources. The following video shows scenes that were edited out of the original film, The Secret. Watch if you feel moved to do so. And hit the button in the bottom corner to make the screen big. The images are gorgeous.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=A2-y8AY0ShA

Have a great weekend!

Love. Period.

Trailer Trash

When Riley was a toddler and Seth was a baby we were living in the suburbs of Maryland. Me and a new friend pushed our little ones in their strollers and as we did, we passed a woman, yelling at her adolescent child on their front porch for not picking up after himself.

"You want to live like trailer trash?" she screamed.

As we passed, I leaned over and confided to my friend,

"We lived in a trailer a couple of times when I was a little kid."

She looked at me, shocked, then smiled and said..."I did too. I never tell anyone that."

I wonder what shame the woman on the porch was needing to cover up? Or was it just ignorance? So many things fly out of our mouths un-thought out.

Another mother, while waiting outside Seth's school yesterday used "retarded" to refer to something stupid. She was a nice woman. She meant no harm. But she was ignorant. It's one in six these days with a developmental delay, dear.

When do you step in and say something? When do you let it slide? Is it my job to police the whole universe? Am I myself immune from making a similar ignorant slip?

When I was 19, I made a "you know they all look alike" comment to a black girl I had known since we were 12. I'd been referring to an Asian student, and I was sure she would know I didn't really mean it. That I was "cool." I'd known all of three black people my whole life up 'til then. I was trying to be funny.

It wasn't cool. It wasn't funny. It was ignorant. I've learned a lot since then.

I never saw that friend again, but the expression on her face, a combo of hurt and outrage has stayed with me. I cringe everytime I think of it and still have not forgiven myself, 20 years later. Sometimes I scoff at the idea that what I said mattered so much. No doubt she'd heard plenty of racist remarks growing up in an all white small town. But still, the thought of hurting her kills me.

Halle Barry recently made a racist remark on Jay Leno. I feel bad for any little Jewish girls who idolize her. I feel bad for Halle too. She's the one that will have to live with herself after what she said.

A wise person once told me "Never mistake for malice that which can be explained by ignorance or stupidity."

While it's true racial slurs are often steeped in malice; it is also true that malice is the result of ignorance, and fear.

I wish I could, but I can't go back and change what I said 20 years ago.

What I can do is raise my kids in a culturally diverse neighborhood.

What I can do is make an effort to know people outside my race.

I can move forward.

And be thankful for the learning.

What's a Soul?

"Mommy, what's a soul?

Seth asks me this as I'm flying around the kitchen, getting them fed and ready for school. (You do know you're five, right buddy)?

What an opportunity!

But wait! I'm not ready. I hadn't planned for this question. Not today.

Dropping everything, we sit down on the kitchen floor. This boy with the innocent eyes, the perfectly round cheeks, the big heart.

Doing what I've been taught to do when I'm lost, I send out an invitation.

"Uh, Holy Spirit? Could you step in here please? Give me some words?"

"Well Seth. Your soul is the big part of you. What you see here," I pat his chest, and touch his head, "is just a small part of who you really are. You are a beautiful , important part of something much larger. The bigger Seth is never afraid, always peaceful, always knows what to do."

He smiles, imagining BIG SETH, then hunkers into me.

I tell him a story from A Course in Miracles. It says we are all like waves in a giant ocean thinking we're separate, when really we're part of the whole.

"Your soul is the part of you who knows who you really are."

He sits on my lap, allowing me to stroke his hair. He's wearing new "Cars" sneakers on his feet. I think I'm doing pretty good (yes I know it's supposed to be 'well,' but that ain't how we really talk).

Then he says, "Cause it said, 'Soul' on Let's Get it Started.

"Doh!"

Todd's been letting them watch music videos on You Tube.

I had to play the video twice to even catch the world "soul," yet it's the one word he pulled out.

Go figure, a discussion on spirituality spurred by the Black Eyed Peas.

What's a Soul?

What's a soul?

Jenny's Leo

Jenny Rough has written an impossibly beautiful piece about the miscarriage she experienced early this year. Go read. Now.

http://www.mothering.com/articles/pregnancy_birth/miscarriage/beyond-leo.html

Love.

When I Was a Boy

A while back, I tuned into NPR and caught a song that touched me deeply both as a former girl child, and as the mother of a little "girl" and a little "boy." I googled it based on the few lines I remembered, but could not find it. I looked for it at music stores, to no avail. It had a folksy quality, I thought Patti Griffin, but I was wrong. Yesterday I had the brilliant idea to ask Jess, knower of all things music, and she got it instantly. Thank you so much Jess!

When I Was a Boy, by Dar Williams

I won't forget when Peter Pan came to my house, took my hand I said I was a boy; I'm glad he didn't check.

I learned to fly, I learned to fight I lived a whole life in one night
We saved each other's lives out on the pirate's deck.

And I remember that night
When I'm leaving a late night with some friends
And I hear somebody tell me it's not safe,someone should help me
I need to find a nice man to walk me home.

When I was a boy, I scared the pants off of my mom,
Climbed what I could climb upon
And I don't know how I survived,
I guess I knew the tricks that all boys knew.

And you can walk me home, but I was a boy, too.

I was a kid that you would like, just a small boy on her bike
Riding topless, yeah, I never cared who saw.

My neighbor came outside to say, "Get your shirt,"
I said "No way, it's the last time I'm not breaking any law."

And now I'm in this clothing store, and the signs say less is more
More that's tight means more to see, more for them, not more for me
That can't help me climb a tree in ten seconds flat.

When I was a boy,
See that picture?
That was me
Grass-stained shirt and dusty knees
And I know things have gotta change,
They got pills to sell, they've got implants to put in,they've got implants to remove
But I am not forgetting...that I was a boy too.

And like the woods where I would creep, it's a secret I can keep
Except when I'm tired, 'cept when I'm being caught off guard
And I've had a lonesome awful day, the conversation finds its way
To catching fire-flies out in the backyard.

And I so tell the man I'm with about the other life I lived
And I say now you're top gun, I have lost and you have won
And he says, "Oh no, no, can't you see
When I was a girl, my mom and I we always talked
And I picked flowers everywhere that I walked.

And I could always cry, now even when I'm alone I seldom do
And I have lost some kindness
But I was a girl too.
And you were just like me, and I was just like you.

My First Love Note From Seth

Is there anything sweeter than a five year old boy?

Images before 9:20 AM

- A tall African American man, bending down to ever so gently brush a crumb off his daughter's cheek as they wait for the school doors to open.

- A very tomboyish woman covered in tattoos, walking with her girly-girl first grader who happens to be decked out in a cheer leading outfit for school.

- A frail elderly woman, staring me down at the intersection, daring me in my van not to let her cross(I loved you lady! I never would have hit you).

- A conga line of little girls making their way to the school yard singing, "chewy chewy, ow, ow" for apparently no good reason other than making themselves laugh.

- Riley, walking confidently into the elementary school.

-Seth with his cap backwards, running ahead of me into preschool.

- My house. Empty, but for me.

Sassy As They Come

I can't say no to my daughter.

I mean, I can say no to her, but not when we're shopping for clothes.

She's never let me dress her all girly. Everything had the potential of being too itchy,too tight. No headbands. No hair bows. No barretts. It's always been lycra pants with elastic waists and cotton tagless shirts. That's it.

So we're at Burlington Coat Factory, buying her what else, a coat, (Cleveland's about to kick our butts, I can feel it), and she says,

"Mom, I want to look at clothes."

"You do?"

"Yeah." She says, strutting over to the girly-girl section.

"I want to find some things that are hip, and sassy, fashionable, stylish and cool." She flicks her head just so for the emphasis on "cool."

I do the Scooby Doo, "Glunk?" As she starts pulling clothes off the racks.

"I want this monkey outfit, this cat shirt, this, this, this, and this Hello Kitty umbrella.

"But you already have an umbrella, your Curious George one." I say.

"Mom, it's not pink, or very girlish."

She's right. Curious George is not appropriate for a girl as hip, sassy, fashionable, stylish and cool as Ms. Riley.

What was I thinking?

My "Ask a Blogger" Debut

The beautiful and talented Jenny Rough has passed me the baton. Today I take over her Ask a Blogger column for the Mad As Hell Club.

Come visit, won't you?

There's free stuff.


http://www.madashellclub.net/?p=1601

You Might Want to Turn Down the Volume

Two random things about Hot Toddy:

#1) On King of Queens, Doug and his father-in-law Arthur (Jerry Stiller) discovered if they got Carrie drunk, she was a lot "nicer" to live with. One night, they got Carrie really schnockered, and Doug started having second thoughts. Arthur tried to convince him to continue daily happy hour with the argument, "It's not a moral issue, it's a dosage issue!"

This is Todd's favorite sitcom line, ever. I think of it every time he comes home from the store with a bottle of wine amongst his purchases. Especially since he doesn't drink.

2) I've known this man for 12 years and have heard him say the "F" word exactly once. He does not swear, but for me, and with very little prompting, he'll do an imitation of Whitney Houston , in her best crack whore voice, saying,

"Kiss my ass"!

Now that's love.

Boy Sees Through Mom!

School gets out an hour early on Tuesdays.
School gets out an hour early on Tuesdays.
School gets out an hour early on Tuesdays.

Did I mention school gets out an hour early on Tuesdays? Yesterday I didn't remember 'til it was already time to get the girl. I was about 10 minutes late.

It wouldn't be so bad, but the previous Tuesday was our first Tuesday at this new school, and I forgot that day too.

Riley wasn't upset either time, but I was. I hate looking like a flake. I hate inconviencing the aide that had to wait with her.

This morning, I rushed us all out the door, and forgot the backpacks. I had to drop her off, run home, then back to school, (which was going to make me late dropping Seth off at preschool).

In the car, I let out a huge, "Ugghhhh!" type of sigh.

Seth asked, "What's wrong?"

Trying to be a good example I told him,

"Mommy's frustrated about forgetting the backpacks, and being late."

Pouring it on thick, I feigned a smile and added, all sing-songy,

"But forgetting a backpack isn't the end of the world, right?"

Seth grinned, and said, "Mom, forgetting a Riley isn't the end of the world either."

Good Morning

Lunch in a crowded school cafeteria can be a bit much when you're extra sensitive. Luckily for Riley, she has the option of the cafeteria, or inviting a couple of classmates to join her in the sensory room for a more intimate meal.


This is just another example of how her school is getting it right. Riley isn't the weird girl, freaking out, crying or covering her ears because of the noise. She's the one everyone hopes will pick them, to have lunch with.


Yesterday morning, I stood outside the school with her. She doesn't file in with all the other second graders. It's too wild. We wait for a teacher or aide to come out and get her, but before the aide arrived, one of her little lunch buddies, a "typical," took her hand instead. They walked into school together, the aide watching from ten feet down the hall. The mom watching from ten steps outside the door.


Two little girls, holding hands as they file into school, like it's no big thing.


My heart is full.

List Update

Every so often it's important to update your list. You don't want to get into a rut. After browsing google images for photos of my top five, I'm afraid there's been a major shake-up.

Rob Thomas. When you sing Smooth, you melt my heart, but this is a deal breaker.

I don't care who you are. Smoking is unsexy. You are being replaced with: No, not Jodi Foster,
(although....never mind). Chow Yun-Fat of Crouching Tiger Hidden Dragon fame. He's hot, and if he can fly through the air like that, imagine......?

Next we come to John Corbett. John, John, John. You had me at hello when you became Carrie Bradshaw's boyfriend. Oh. My. God. how dreamy you were, long hair, short hair. Didn't matter. But....

and....

Does anyone else feel sick to their stomach? Why, beautiful man? Why? This is one where I have to turn the tables and say, it's not me, it's you. Mutton chops? Who does that? You're being replaced with Mr. Matt Lauer. I feel safe with him and I tell you what, he'd never pull no mutton chops.

Denzel? You're staying, Because...well, you're Denzel. (We're having a "phone thing" in the picture below).

That's right baby, talk to me. Write it down. Write it all down.

Steven Tyler, you've had a good run, and I still love you, but not that way. I'm not so sure it was ever a sexual thing between us anyway. We still have a connection, you're a beautiful soul, but I release you.

Taking your place will be a more clean-cut chap, Dr. Andy Wakefield. Dr. Wakefield is the G.I. guy that did the first study connecting autism with the MMR vaccine. He's been ridiculed, maligned, blackballed, brought up under criminal charges, but he stands by his research. He's something of a rock star among bio-med moms, and I've been told desperate housewives often make asses of themselves in his presence at autism conferences. I would never be so brazen(this is pretend folks), but there is something sexy about integrity, no? Add to it a yummy British accent, and a doc who is helping kids on the spectrum. Va,va,voom!

And finally, Natalie Portman. It's not that you've done anything wrong. You are just as beautiful and talented as ever, but I only allot one space for girl crushes and I just have to go with the Queen, under the motto from Hairspray, "Who wants a twig when you can have the whole tree?" Now go eat some pumpkin cheesecake and get back to me in about 20-30 pounds.

There. That's that.

At least for now.

And gosh, I think that's plenty.

Homecoming

This is my beautiful niece Lauren and the boy she is dating. She was five when Todd and I first fell in love. At the time, we visited her in North Carolina, took her roller skating, and she bossed us around.

"Aunt Michelle, I said you could skate around the rink, I didn't say you could talk to Todd."

I was the only grown-up she let jump on her trampoline. Todd had to wait on the sidelines.

Lauren has endured two major moves since then and was a trooper during her mom's breast cancer almost six years ago. At the time, she channeled some of that pain into beautiful poetry, way beyond her years.

She has grown into a gorgeous young woman, just got her driver's permit, and she's still bossy(just ask her little brother, Will).

A woman who knows what she wants.

We wouldn't have her any other way.

Lottery

Have you read Pat Wood's debut novel Lottery yet?

It's about a "slow" man who wins the lottery, and his life in the aftermath. Everyone wants a piece of him.

It made me laugh.

It made me cry.

It made me think.

It made me happy when I saw it in a prominent position on the shelf at Barnes & Nobel yesterday.

Go Pat!

"That's so cool!"

Baked Potatos for Dinner Tonight

http://www.howtobakeapotato.com/

Google, I love you so much. What did I ever do without you?

Things About Me and My Writing, A MEME

- After a writing session, I feel I can breathe, even though I hadn't realized I was holding my breath prior.

- If someone mentions the title of a blog post, I have to think hard to bring it up in my mind. By the next day I've usually moved on and can't remember what I wrote.

- I never, ever run out of things to blog about and I don't understand when people say they can't think of a thing to write.

- I am amazed that people read my blog.

- I threw the baby out with the bath water when I left the news business. I did love to write, just not news. Just not crazy deadlines. Just not fabrication.

- When I was a teen, I was working at a drug store, and one of the ladies I worked with said something funny, and I said, "I need to write that down" And she said, "Why?" and I said, "For my memoirs." And I didn't know what a memoir was, or why that word would slip out of my mouth. We looked at each other confused; me about the word memoir, her presumably about why I would think I would be important enough to write one. We both shrugged and let it go.

There you go Drama Mama, off the cuff.

I tag Carrie, Kari, Jerri, Shari, and do we have a Mary?

Nope no Marys.

Any Harrys?

Faith, A Process

Now I can write about it.

You know how we moved, and started Riley in a new school. And her teacher quit the first day? And then, we switched her to another school? And she started in second grade there last week, and it went sooooo well? You know how her new teacher is the perfect fit for her? How it is all finally going to be okay?

Well.

Riley's beautiful, young, vibrant teacher underwent emergency surgery Sunday night for an aortic aneurysm. She is currently in the ICU.

I spent the past couple of days questioning my belief system, because for someone who supposedly believes in a benevolent Universe; a loving God, I felt we were being messed with. I questioned my own worth. That irrational, childish feeling that everything is my fault, seeped in. Are my husband and my kids destined to have crappy lives because of a dark cloud that seems to follow me around? I felt kicked in the teeth. One step forward, 100 steps back. How many changes can this little girl (who does not do well with transitions) endure? I despise the whole victim mentality, but there I was, steeped in it.

So I didn't write about it.

Until I had a handle on it, I didn't want to make it bigger. I wrote about "baby talk on TV," and "shooting birds" and "shoving" instead. It helped. Tempting as it was, I didn't call one person to join me in my panic.

I got out my Abraham CD's.

I went for walks.

I meditated.

I listened.

I took good care of myself.

I ate pumpkin cheesecake, and drank green tea.

Finally, now, I'm in a place where I am thankful for the opportunity this gave me to look at the fear that I'm somehow "less than." That I'm not worthy of a good life. I've taken it out and examined it for what it is, which is total bullshit.

The fact is, Riley came home from school the last three days happy, despite her teacher being out.

The third grade special ed teacher is good friends with Riley's ailing teacher. She was the first contact I made at this new school and I trust her. She hooked Riley up with a very seasoned aide (who has tons of experience with autism) and is hoping to be able to keep her in Riley's class until her teacher recovers. And miraculously, Riley's teacher IS expected to recover. Her aneurysm didn't rupture. Rupture is almost always fatal.

It is a benevolent Universe.

On this week's Abraham CD there was a question about autism. Abraham said something to the effect that it forces the issue of healing/spiritual growth through a kind of back door. "What you never would have done for yourself, you will do for your child."

My daughter and all that she brings, continuously shines a light on the places I still need to be healed, and though it doesn't feel like it at times, it is a blessing and I am so grateful to her.

No victims here. No curses either. No black clouds.

Both Riley and her teacher are okay.

I am too.

I have faith.

Jewelry for a Good Cause

A very special person to our family has been working with a Christian organization to help girls and women who have been victims of human trafficking in China.

Susan is the teacher we met in Lynchburg, who turned the key for Riley, opening her up to a world of learning.

I know it's early, but if you're moved to add some jewelry to your Christmas shopping list, please visit the link below. The earrings on the site are very affordable and they are made by the women who will be helped by the sales.

http://www.edenchina.org/

The amount of human suffering in the world is sometimes overwhelming to think about. This is one small way to help, and to look "fabulous" while you do it.

http://www.edenchina.org/

Happy shopping!

Happy helping!

They Called You What?

Chatting with some moms on the playground the other day, I caught some shoving out of the corner of my eye. Seth shoved another little boy, the boy shoved back, Seth shoved again.

"Seth." We don't shove, I admonished him.

Later, he told me what was going on.

The one he was shoving, and another little boy, had ganged up on him. They were calling him..."four."

Geesh. Had I known the magnitude of the insult, I wouldn't have stopped him.

That kid clearly had it coming.

Birds of a Feather

Love is when you and your darling break away from the kids for two seconds to sit on the porch swing and chit chat, and then some birds land in a bush nearby, and get all loud and squalky, and you, without missing a beat, take the fingers of your right hand and form them into a gun, and pretend to shoot the birds, and he laughs, knowing exactly which episode of Friends that little gesture is from, and does not judge you for pretend shooting innocent birds.

Baby Talk on TV

I'm sick of it.

Ming-ming, the duckling on Wonder Pets.

Baby Bear on Sesame St.

Okay...maybe I'm a little sensitive since my eldest picks up speech nuances so efficiently. She didn't used to have a slight stammer, but now she does, (the exact slight stammer that is Seth's).

Give her a minute with a friend who can't say their "r's, and soon she'll be talking the same way.

Serwiously, aren't we supposed to be modeling proper speech?

Question

How cute is my husband, on the phone just now, reading excerpts from Riley's "book" aloud to his parents.

Here's to good dads!

XO

And here is my favorite chapter so far (note the mom's starring role and the social skills she's working through). Also, note the berret.

Miss Mary Mack, Mack, Mack.....

On Thursday morning, the teacher presented Riley with a written schedule for her day (it soothes her to know what will be going on). Riley took it, read it, then crossed off "sensory room" and wrote "RECESS."

At break time, she went out on the playground with the other kids, took part in back and forth conversations, played a little girl hand clapping game (in the past these would cause a meltdown due to her motor delays; her body couldn't keep up) and even tried jumping rope.

This is a child who could hardly bear to even stand on a crowded playground holding a teacher's hand two years ago. A child who last year would only swing.

She asked her mother, mother, mother
for fifty cents, cents, cents....

Fifty cents? Fifty dollars? A hundred?

Whatever you want baby.

You make me so proud.

Bad Idea, But You Got No Game

Perhaps it was a bad idea to take Seth grocery shopping straight from preschool. I brought him a snack, and an ice cold drink, and thought he could get through, but I guess he was too tired from his busy morning.

He walked beside me, and did not want to be in the shopping cart, until we were checking out. At that point, I needed to put the bagged groceries in it, to carry them to the van. Still, he persisted, claiming he was too tired to walk all the way outside to the parking lot.

He whined, he pleaded, he clung to the cart. I kept walking, dragging him along. In the parking lot, he threw himself in front of the shopping cart, defying me to run over him. I peeled him off and walked around. He followed, screaming indignantly. When he saw we were approaching the van, and he was out of time, he lost it, throwing himself onto the dirty pavement, in child's pose, refusing to move.

It's sunny, in the 80's here today, and as I loaded the groceries into the van, I smiled at his ridiculousness.

"That pavement must be hot." I thought to myself.

After I got the groceries securely in the van, I turned and picked up my little man, smiling at the amount of energy he put into his tantrum despite the fact that he was too tired to walk. I buckled him in, kissed him and handed him his water. I turned on the theme to Hairspray and put on his favorite song (She's Got Cooties). I smiled all the way home.

Sorry little fella, it might have been a bad idea, but you got no game.

I learned from the best.

Any Suggestions?

The boy made himself a stuffed cat at Build a Bear Workshop, and has named it something I can't say without giggling. Hot Toddy can't begin to think it without blushing.

Yes, everyone, meet Pu$$y. (See, I can't even spell it with a straight face).

What am I supposed to do? Tell him he can't use the name because it also happens to be slang for vagina? That seems like a little too much information for a five year old.

Oh...and did I mention, this is the first toy he insists on bringing everywhere, introducing it to everyone he meets.

Realtors, doctors, teachers...they all do a double take, "Say what?"

"Pussy-cat?" They ask, hopefully.

Seth holds firm, "NO! It's Pu$$y. NOT Pussy-cat."

We were hoping the toy would lose it's charm, and quickly be forgotten, but that doesn't seem to be happening.

Why couldn't he have just stuffed a bear? Or a dog?

Why..............................?

* Photo is Pu$$y in his Halloween costume.

Listen......

Do you hear it?

It's the sound of Riley being at a school where I'm not "waiting for the phone call."

It's the sound of Seth, happily at preschool, for two more hours.

It's the sound of me, sipping my pumpkin spice tea,

and exhaling,

in gratitude.

Buddha Boy

We stood outside on the screened porch, watching a cat walk across the wooden privacy fence. The gray tabby stopped, then decided to lay down on a plank no more than two inches wide.

"That doesn't look comfortable." I said.

We watched the cat. The cat watched us.

Riley talked to it in a sweet high voice, "Hello Kitty, hello baby."

The cat didn't move.

"Maybe it's Crystal." said Seth.

"It can't be Crystal, because Crystal died." said Riley.

After a while Seth sighed, cocked his head to the right and said, "Maybe she just took another body."

It's Not the End of the World.....Is it?

Riley started her new school today.

We were having a fine morning.

She and Seth were laughing at breakfast.

We had a plan.

The teacher would come outside and I'd hand her off. No mommy going in. No lengthy good-bye.

We went.

We waited.

The teacher didn't come.

We waited.

Riley got increasingly more nervous.

I asked someone to go in to get the teacher.

15 minutes went by and finally she came out.

I was at the wrong door. As soon as she said it, I remembered she'd said the other door.

By the time I left, Riley was really worked up. Screaming, begging me to take her home.

This is her first impression at the new school.

I just cannot keep track of everything I am supposed to keep track of, and I don't know how people do it, but I can't seem to and I suck.