What's in Your Food?

Do you think we have a right to know? If yes, then please sign this petition (it's quick and easy)to encourage President elect Obama to appoint Michael Pollen as the Secretary of Agriculture.

For more information on who Micheal Pollen is, listen to a pod cast here,

and here.

Genetically modified food.

Animals, if given the choice won't touch the stuff. Starving nations refuse it.

Our children deserve better than this.

IMPORTANT HEALTH ADVICE FOR WOMEN (Just in time for the holidays)!

Do you have feelings of inadequacy?

Do you suffer from shyness?

Do you sometimes wish you were more assertive?

If you answered yes to any of these questions, ask your doctor or pharmacist about Chardonnay.

Chardonnay is the safe, natural way to feel better and more confident about yourself and your actions.

Chardonnay can help ease you out of your shyness and let you tell the world that you're ready and willing to do just about anything.

You will notice the benefits of Chardonnay almost immediately and with a regimen of regular doses you can overcome any obstacles that prevent you from living the life you want to live.

Shyness and awkwardness will be a thing of the past and you will discover many talents you never knew you had.

Stop hiding and start living.

Chardonnay may not be right for everyone.

Women who are pregnant or nursing should not use Chardonnay. However, women who wouldn't mind nursing or becoming pregnant are encouraged to try it.

Side effects may include dizziness, nausea, vomiting, incarceration,erotic lustfulness, loss of motor control, loss of clothing, loss of money, loss of virginity, delusions of grandeur, table dancing, headache, dehydration, dry mouth, and a desire to sing Karaoke and play all-night rounds of StripPoker, Truth Or Dare, and Naked Twister.

WARNINGS:

* The consumption of Chardonnay may make you think you are whispering when you are not. * The consumption of Chardonnay may cause you to tell your friends over and over again that you love them.
*The consumption of Chardonnay may cause you to think you can sing.
* The consumption of Chardonnay may make you think you can logically converse with members of the opposite sex without spitting.
* The consumption of Chardonnay may create the illusion that you are tougher, smarter, faster and better looking than most people. Please feel free to share this important information with as many women as you feel may benefit!

*This important announcment arrived via forwarded e-mail. Regretfully, I do not know the original source. Remember, "it's not a moral issue, it's a dosage issue. "

Happy Thanksgiving!

Back With a Bang

Bangs are a confusing concept for HT.


"So, if you cut them, you have them? Shouldn't it be the other way around?"


I've explained the concept for years and it's something he just can't wrap his bald little hat rack around.


After a few years of being bangless, I got mine cut. To hell with the shiny forehead. Who needs it?


According to this blogger, it seems I did the right thing.


At least, for a white girl.

DWTS

No, I'm not doing that again. You in the west will just have to wait and see for yourselves.

Overheard from downstairs as I write, up in my room.....

"Why don't you guys come have your hot chocolate. Do you want marshmallows?"

He's just walked Riley and Seth home from school, in the snow.

And just like that,

I fall in love all over again.

It's Official

Driving down the road in my minivan,I recognize the base beat first. I relax my shoulders and kind of swagger in my seat.

Yeah, baby. Psycho killer. I'm cool. I'm groovin.' I'm a cool chick.

Yep. That's me.

Don't touch me I'm a real live wire.

Far, far far far far far far far far far.....

Oh, oh, oh, Ei! Ei! Ei! Ei! Ei!

Tapping my foot while stopped at the light. I smile.

This takes me back.

Sure does.

Run, run, run, away.

Holy crap. How long is this song anyway?

It just goes on forever, doesn't it?

Tap, tap, tap.

Seriously. It's fricking giving me a headache.

Enough already.

Turning it off, I enjoy my Psycho Killer free silence.

I'm old.

Ei!Ei!Ei!Ei!Ei!

Charlie the North Star Dog

Meet Charlie! Charlie is an autism service dog in California who lives and works with an adorable little boy named Tim. His mom Carolyn has been blogging about the autism service dog experience since getting their helpful pooch earlier this year.

Reading this is delicious inspiration as we raise money for Riley's dog.

As part of the process of getting our dog, we are required to videotape Riley. 4 Paws for Ability needs to see where she struggles, so they can effectively teach her service dog to intervene. Yesterday, the camera caught a lot. Riley was flipping out because we were studying for a science test and she couldn't remember some answers. Lots of crying and flinging herself all over the couch, and hitting herself in the head. At dinner, a conversation about how confused she was because a girl at school who took her under her wing last year, is not friendly this year. Then later, Riley with her head down on the dining room table, hair covering her face 'ala Cousin It, repeating over and over, "I'm dumb. I'm stupid." She'd been having a hard time with a computer game she was attempting to play.

Seeing it all on tape (including her struggles at the karate test over the weekend) is a bit overwhelming for us. So is the generosity from all of you who have contributed financially or just by way of a shout out with emotional support for our doggie quest. We don't have a list of those who have contributed to 4 Paws yet, but as soon as we get it you'll be receiving personal thank you notes from us. I'll keep you posted on how we're doing as we make our way toward our goal.

Friday we distributed flyers in our immediate community, and yesterday, a high school senior came to our door, wanting to interview us about the service dog for a local community newspaper. We have a benefit concert planned in upstate NY for Dec. 27. We also have a few more fund raising ideas up our sleeves. Perhaps selling homemade dog biscuits via the blog? Can you feel the momentum? Hang tight puppy dog! We're on our way!

Meanwhile, I hope you enjoy the adventures of Charlie and Tim. Click here to read their story from the beginning.

Love.

* Just got word from 4 Paws. We will receive updates on donations the first and fifteenth of each month.

And to think I was never a fan of Barbie....

In the excitement over the martial arts exam, I almost forgot to mention the birthday party Riley attended today. She was psyched to be invited. The birthday boy lives on our street, and his mom was cool with, "I might have to stay, and of course I'll have to bring Seth since Todd is working." We got there and as we took our coats off Riley balked. There were some kids she didn't know, and it was chaotic. She buried her head in my side and then I heard it. The song Barbie Girl pumping in the background. Riley likes the song's bouncy bubble gum beat.

Leaning in, I whispered in her ear...."C'mon Barbie, lets go party."

She turned her head, cocked her ear. She grinned. Then, following the music into the next room, she was off!

She had a fabulous time. She played all the games. She danced. She batted balloons. She took part in the whole thing, even singing LOUDLY, "Happy Birthday Cha, Cha,Cha!" Of course Seth had a blast too.

Friends, it's been quite a weekend. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go collapse.

It Could Have Gone Worse

Entering the karate school, it was crowded and there were many students Riley didn't know. She started whining, then buried herself into me and would not look up. Then she began crying, really crying, loudly. We went into the hall, and she shrieked. Huge tears ran down her face.

"What if they make fun of me? What if those big kids laugh at me?"

"Your teacher would never let that happen, Riley."

She looked unconvinced.

We found her teacher, and she promised Riley no one would laugh at her.

The warm-ups started and it was all too much. Riley got loud again.

Her teacher said we could wait in her office, and Riley could just come out to do her form when it was her turn.

In the office, we read books, we did deep breathing, we did a family circle where each person takes a turn standing in the center, and the people on the outside have to say what they like about the person in the middle. We read more books. We did push ups and sit ups.

Then it was Riley's turn.

We went into the gym, to the edge of the mat, and Riley started to squeak, again burying her head into me.

Silence in the room.

More silence.

Uncomfortable silence, as Riley stayed glued to my side.

I took a breath and said to the teacher and the room,

"Riley is afraid people will laugh at her."

Her teacher stepped up and said,

"NO WAY JOSE. This is a safe place." Then with authority, "Riley take your place."

And she did!

She walked out, head down.

But when the teacher gave the command, my little girl looked up and did her form. She did it with great and powerful punches! She remembered her ki-ups! She was determined. She was incredible. Three instructors (two of whom she'd never seen before in her life) gave her gentle feedback, and asked her to do it again, AND SHE DID!

After, instead of sitting back down on the line with the rest of her classmates, she scuttled back into the teacher's office,and shut the door. We stayed in there with her for a while, and finally she was able to come back out and observe some of the other kids testing.

The instructors said respect was the most important thing in karate. Not forms. Not anything else. Respect underlies it all.

Riley respected herself today. She took good care of herself. She expressed her fears. She bravely went out and performed. She quietly watched her classmates and cheered them when they finished.

Outside, HT presented her with a small bouquet of little pink flowers. She grinned. Her first flowers, ever.

Seth deserves his own metal for sitting through the whole thing.

We won't know for sure until December,

but in my opinion,

she earned her yellow stripe.

Yellow Stripe Examination

Riley started martial arts classes at the end of September. At the time, she could not make it through five minutes of warm-ups without a meltdown. She could not figure out where the parts of her body went for each stretch. By the time she got it,they were moving on.

The teacher took a couple of weeks and worked one on one with her before folding her into the group class.

She has had three or four classes in the last month where I have not had to pull her out at all. If she becomes disruptive to the rest of the class, we go into the hall and do some calming exercises. Each time, she's been able to get it together and rejoin the class which in and of itself is a miracle. Used to be, once she reached that tipping point, it was over.

Tomorrow she'll be testing for her yellow stripe. She is proud of herself for learning the first eight steps of her first form. The girl who could not do one sit up in September can now do FIFTY. Her teacher tells the kids, they are martial artists. They are doing something important. She tells them lots of kids are just home watching TV.

The determination in Riley's face as she maintains horse stance and throws out her punches! The way she's finding her voice. Not a high pitched squeal, but a low, forceful KI-UP! The start of teeny little muscles are forming along her biceps.

One day during class she ran over to me distressed and crying, "I'm hot! I'm sweating!"

"That's good Riley." I whispered. "It means your body is making muscles."

A satisfied look crossed her face and she's never complained about being hot since.

In the car on our way to karate classes, I say, and she repeats,

I'm a good kid.
It doesn't matter if I have a hard time or an easy time today.
I'm still a good kid.

It doesn't matter if I cry
or if I scream or if I laugh.
I'm a good kid, no matter what.

I do my best.
My best is good enough.

No one is perfect.
And I don't have to be perfect.

Mommy loves me.
Daddy loves me.
Seth loves me.
My teachers love me.
God loves me.

Happy or sad,
good day or bad,

everyone loves me.
I'm a good kid.

The test will be long and crowded. All the students from all the classes will be there. An unfamiliar instructor conducts the exam.

Will she do it?

Will she get make it through; get her stripe?

Yes or no. It doesn't matter.

Nothing will ever change

the fact that

my Riley

is a very

good kid.

What the Kids are Reading

Riley spoke at 11 months. She learned the alphabet in two days when she was 18 months old (Upper case. It took a couple more days to master lower case). She mostly taught herself to read, (a really amazing teacher helped solidify it) and at eight years old has been reading to her brother for years. It's just starting to click for Seth. The joy when his face lights up, recognizing a word, is heaven to me. My babies love books! My babies love books!

These are what we are reading right now. I read them a chapter at bed. A chapter at dinner (when Daddy is working). A chapter to change the subject if someone is upset. The books are all over the house in various rooms. We read whichever is closest when the mood strikes.

The Wheel on the School by Meindert DeJong (master bedroom)

Otherwise Known as Sheila the Great by Judy Blume (kitchen)

Jonathan Livingston Seagull by Richard Bach (Seth's room)

Tink North of Neverland, Disney Fairies (Riley's room)

This does not count the bookcase full of children's books in the living room and the stack of picture books from the library sitting on the piano bench at all times.

Nothing cuter than Seth and Riley all curled up on the couch, her reading to him. Him peering over her shoulder at the book.

Heaven, I tell ya. Right here on earth.

A Service Dog for Riley

"I would feel happy if I got a dog to calm me down because I would take it for walks and feed it. It's cuteness would calm me down when I am having a hard time. It would go with me everywhere. It might get along with the other cats. I will take lots of care for it and I will love it very much."

- Riley,8 (Asperger's)

If you would like to donate toward Riley's service dog, click here to contribute on-line.

Or, checks can be sent to:

4 Paws for Ability

253 Dayton Ave.

Xenia, Ohio 45385

Donations are tax deductable. Make sure you put "Riley O'Neil" in the special instructions.

From the bottom of our hearts, thank you.

* for more on autism service dogs click here.

Woof!

Our application for Riley's service dog went through and we are almost ready to roll! First we had to fight some internal demons,(and an external one in the form of my MIL).

For several nights, HT and I have stayed up late, asking ourselves these questions.....

1) Who are we to ask for money from anyone?

2)Is Riley "autistic enough" to even need a service dog?

3)Are we magnifying her differences by hanging a big fat "service dog" sign on her forehead?

4) Why does it cost so much money?

Let's tackle these, one at a time, shall we? Will you come with? Talk me through?

1) Who are we to ask for money from anyone?

Service dogs are not "for sale." To make it fair, each family must fund raise in order to obtain one. Todd and I put ourselves through college, with no help. We've worked hard. We live modestly. All of our money over the last 6 years has gone into treatments for autism. Our medical insurance hasn't covered a thing. We've never asked anyone for anything, ever. We've taken pretty damn good care of this child with no support. Perhaps it's time to loosen our white knuckle grip and allow others who might want to help, to do so.

2) Is Riley "autistic enough" to need a service dog?

Riley has come a long way, but she still needs much emotional support. Her teacher is on board and hopefully the school district will allow the dog in the classroom. Riley has meltdowns at school, and needs many sensory breaks in order to make it through the day. Her service dog will be trained to recognize the signs that she is escalating, and to intervene, by putting it's head on her lap, nuzzling her, changing the subject and offering a source of comfort. It will also be trained to stop her from distracting repetitive behaviors or "stims" that are common to kids on the spectrum. Even if the dog is not allowed at school, it will help her with the same issues at home, and will allow her more freedom, by giving her more confidence to enter new situations. The dog will be an instant conversation starter, which will help with her social deficits. Presently it is very hard for Riley to initiate conversations or to join new groups.

3) Are we magnifying her differences?

Dog or no dog, Riley is "different." We can embrace who she is, and work with it, or we can spend a whole lot of time trying to "pass" for typical and watch it all fall down the second she has a meltdown or doesn't understand a social nuance. Those who have kids with visible disabilities have an out. People cut them a break. If Riley's service dog makes her more visible and cuts her a break we're all for it. One day, she may not want to be walking around being seen with a service dog. Today she does. She is very excited about it. Autism/Asperger's isn't something to be ashamed of.

4) Why does it cost so much money?

These dogs are highly trained. The families have responsibility for them but never really purchase them, as the service organization maintains ownership. The dogs perform their lifelong jobs for your family for a one time service fee of 11k. They are tailor trained to each child's specific needs and will be your child's companion for life. We are in the process of videotaping Riley so they can see the behaviors she needs help with and figure out ways the trainers can teach the dog to intervene. Having a lifelong friend who understands her, whom Riley can count on to always be consistent, is priceless to us.

Thank you for listening. Thank you for helping me process.

Tomorrow I'll put up a link.

Paying it Forward

When I went back to school for nursing, I was one of a handful of students at Binghamton University(formerly SUNY Binghamton) accepted into an accelerated baccalaureate program for those who already had a Bachelor's degree in another field. It was hard core. The program was designed as a solid year of intense nursing classes and clinicals. Credits up the wazoo. I was swirling in a brainiac frenzy, completely out of my league.

Julia was one of my cohorts. She was an adult learner having already raised her children. She was warm, and crunchy. As in, she spun her own wool. She was kind, and patient and smart. She wanted to break down every little thing we learned to the very finest detail to really and truly understand. I was holding on tight just to make it through, and planning a wedding amidst all the accelerated madness(after the wedding I blissfully dropped back to regular time to canoodle with my new husband).

All the the students in the accelerated program were grade crazy. They'd fight for every point. In our study groups I'd have no idea what most of them were talking about, but then, from some under layer of knowledge, I'd blurt out something so simple their high faluten' brains hadn't registered it. Oh their joy, when my little tid-bit was on the test. They'd thank me profusely for the two points I'd saved them, seeming to not even realize I wasn't one of them.

One day, our group took a test on separate days. I went first. People were pouncing on me left and right as I walked into a lecture hall for class after the exam. I'd barely had time to process the grueling test I'd just come from. I was confused and tired. Julia was the fifth person to get all up in my face about "what was on the test?" and I snapped.

I don't remember what I said, but it was curt. It flew out of my mouth before I could even think.

I spent the next hour in a pathology lecture feeling horrible, with Julia sitting just behind me. She was one of the kindest people I knew; someone I'd never want to hurt.

During break, I turned around and said, "I'm so sorry. I, I, I,......."

She leaned in for a hug, kissed me on the cheek, and said, "It's okay." In that instant I knew she meant it. It was over. She wasn't holding it. In almost ten years since, she's never brought it up, or even hinted at it again. I'd be surprised if she remembers.

From that incident, I learned friends sometimes hurt friends, and that it isn't the end of the world. I learned forgiveness can be swift, and quick and permanent.

My feelings were hurt by some things a friend said today. She suggested I overprotect Riley, though she does not know Riley very well. She suggested Riley might act out because of me, or more so in my presence, because I expect it. (She has a child on the spectrum who presents entirely different than Riley. He does not have meltdowns. He does not seem to care that he is "different"). She thought it was just a discussion. I felt judged, and unfairly so. I told her this. She felt bad.

This much I know, she's a good person and hurting me was never her intention.

A' la Julia, I'm letting it go.

I learned a lot in nursing school.

Amen.

Hitting Boulders at 100 mph

I should be further along.

I've been on this spiritual quest for a long time, and still I screw up left and right.

Still, I am unhappy.

Still, I let things get to me.

Still, I don't have patience with my kids.

Still, I resist my life.

The teachings of Abraham say once you start to become more conscious, your stream begins moving really fast. And when you hit a boulder in a stream at 100 miles an hour, it hurts more than if you were just slugging along, low grade misery, hitting that same boulder at 25mph.

Discordant vibration starts to be intolerable.

I bought Riley a latch hook kit. I thought it would be good for helping her fine motor skills, and I thought she would enjoy it. I loved those as a kid. Two strings in, she freaked. Seth was able to do it better, and she got on a continuous loop of, "I'm stupid! I can't do it! I quit!"

Scooping up the whole kit off the kitchen table I marched it over to the garbage, threw it in, and yelled, "This is what I think of quitters!"

Seth burst into tears and ran out of the room.

Why do I ever try to do anything fun with her? So often, it backfires.

Why do I lose it, when I know she can't help it?

Why can't I go live on a mountain by myself someplace, where my actions won't hurt others?

Why do I feel like I'm stupid. I can't do it. I quit.

Up in my attic office, the orange leaves out my window are being pushed hard by the cold wind. It's raining and they cling for dear life. The branches are knocked back again and again by strong gusts.

Some of the trees are completely bare now.

I think of the ant parable. If an ant walked by a tree in winter, he, with his short lifespan would mistakenly think the tree was dead. He wouldn't see the big picture. He wouldn't know about the spring.

There is a bigger picture here as well. I can't see it right now, but I am willing to.

Over and over,

I am willing.

What I Should Have Said.....

...and what I will file away in my brain to say next time another parent of a special needs child questions our decision thus far not to medicate Riley. It happened yesterday.


"I'm sure you're right, I don't know everything. What I do know is to never second guess another special needs parent."

One Reason I Love Riley's Teachers

They create things like this for every area she has trouble with (click on it for a better view). Teachers are amazing. Teachers of kids with special needs? Good ones? There are no words to describe the respect we have for them. Every day is teacher appreciation day at our house.

*Did I mention the above copy was sent home laminated for us to keep? I didn't? Well I certainly should have.

It's a Bouncing Baby Novel!

I went to high school and community college with a guy named Sean Walsh, a real doll, whom I cross paths with once every oh, ten or more years. He has a beautiful wife Teri, a daughter named "Riley" (older than our Riley)and a younger son named Liam. They live in our hometown in upstate NY.

Sean's in an Irish band called The Stoutmen, and when I called him yesterday to see if they'd perform at a benefit concert to raise money for our Riley's service dog(yes our application got approved!!!),he said yes without hesitation(of course he still has to run it by the other stout men). In our conversation, he shared the wonderful news that his wife Teri has written a blockbuster novel and has sold it to Random House. So cool!

This is what was written about it in the New York Post:

PEOPLE ARE talking about the coming Therese Walsh novel "Unbounded," which Elisabeth Weed at Weed Literary is sitting on with all her might and main, hoping that the entire plot, etc., doesn't leak before Shaye Areheart Books publishes in the fall of 2009.
This one tells of a language professor whose grief over the loss of her twin has isolated her from friends and family. She impulsively buys a keris - a Japanese weapon imbued with legendary powers. She embarks then on a trip, New York to Rome, to follow the dagger's provenance. Will this lead her to the truth of her sister's tragedy?
Evidently, "Unbounded" was good enough for the author to nail down a major two-book deal.

And this, is an article about Teri that ran in an upstate NY newspaper. I love how she speaks of the challenge of writing and motherhood, and the question...."Why can't I just be satisfied with what I'm already doing?" I can so relate.

Of course my favorite part is about Sean's reaction to the sale of her book. He's a sweetie. I wouldn't expect anything less.

Congrats Walshes!

I cannot wait to read Unbounded.

About Time

Looky here.

President-Elect Obama is going to mandate medical insurance companies to cover treatments for autism.

We autism parents aren't kidding here. No treatment that has helped Riley(and there have been many), has ever been covered.

It's despicable.

We aren't a nation that cares about our children if we ditch one in 150 of them.

This is very, very hopeful.

House Swap

In my internet wanderings I came across this interesting site. Not sure I could ever do it, given the control issues of a certain someone in this house (me). Plus, we don't home school. It is interesting though. Would you ever consider it?

OMG! They're going through my things!

Ruff!

I hope you've been looking at The Daily Puppy in my links. What, you don't like cute? You don't like to smile?

Verde

What if just part of you is here, and the larger part of you, is forever in the eternal place we all come from and return to. What if that larger part of you is peaceful and calm, and never waivers.

What if with every experience on this plane, good or bad, that larger part of you becomes more.

And what if that larger part is not looking down on you like you are bad, or stupid, or wrong with every mistake, but viewing you with love and appreciation, for being brave enough to be here at all, creating the expansion?

If that were true, wouldn't you cut yourself a break?

Wouldn't you think, "I'm not perfect, but it's okay?"

Wouldn't that be nice? To have an ever present, non-critical ethereal you, cheering you on?

She comes to me sometimes in meditation. She takes my hands and pulls me into a clear green crystal. She looks into my eyes with love and appreciation. Silently she assures me I'm doing a good job. I breathe it in like my life depends on it.

It does.

I leave her, fed.

It gives me courage, knowing she thinks I'm brave.

Checking In

Seth's been home all week with pneumonia, and Todd's been working 10 hour days. I'm going a little Yellow Wallpaper.

Pray for us.

; )

A Day I'll Never Forget

It was a romantic vision. We were set to wake up at 6AM, walk around the corner to the polls right at 6:30 to beat the crowd. Kids in tow, watch Mommy and Daddy vote, remember this.

At 5AM the coughing started. Seth lay on the floor in the hall, "I feel like I'm going to throw up," he cried. And cried. And cried.

Riley woke up at 6:00, and I still held out hope we'd all have the voting experience together. She went into the bathroom, and knowing we were in a hurry, couldn't go. Nothing worse than hurrying her. Even if you don't say a thing. Major freaking out ensued on the other side of the bathroom door.

Todd got up, and began getting dressed. I went downstairs to get our voter registration cards and they were not where I'd put them weeks ago, to keep them safe.

I began to freak.

HT said we just need ID.

ARE YOU SURE?
ARE YOU SURE?

I went back upstairs, opened the bathroom door, and screamed at Riley, for screaming,

"I DON'T CARE IF YOU PEE OR IF YOU DON'T, BUT STOP THE CARRYING ON! ZIP IT! I DON'T WANT TO HEAR ANY MORE OF THIS!"

Miraculously, she stopped. I shut the door, and soon heard the sounds of tinkling.

I scooped Seth up and slid down the wall, holding him, as he hacked up a lung.

Todd was downstairs looking for those cards, but came back up.

"Why don't you just go," he said.

"No! You go. If I get over there and they say I can't vote, I'm going to go out of my mind. You need to go first and find out."

He went.

Seth barfed all over himself, and me.

Riley to the rescue, she got him a new shirt and towel.

Todd got back less than one hour later, victorious. Just our ID's. Nothing more needed.

Riley and I headed off to the polls. On the walk there, she started to freak, and began trying to pull me back toward home. She was afraid she might see some of her classmates, and afraid she might be shy. Don't ask me to explain this. I can't. It happens all the time.

For the second time today (before 8AM) I yelled at her,

"Riley! Mommy has been looking forward to voting for a long time. PLEASE do not ruin this for me."

She sucked it up and walked along beside me.

She hid behind me as we walked into the voting room. She buried her head in my chest when the volunteer asked if she wanted a sticker. Thank God the line was not long.

Intently, she watched me fill in the ballot.

She fed the ballot into the slot.

She picked out a cupcake at the bake sale that was going on there.

We walked home.

8:30AM, Seth was still throwing up.

Noon, I called the doctor and she was booked.

2PM Seth was not looking good. I took him to a walk-in clinic and the NP got out a book to read about upper respiratory infections. I knew more than she did. She did not even take his temperature.

3PM, I called my mom, (a very seasoned nurse) and put the phone up to Seth's throat so she could hear him breathe. I told her I heard crackles in his lungs.

"Go to the ER," she said.

HT was working 'til 11:30PM. I was on my own.

3:30PM, I carried Seth into the ER, he was unresponsive, even when I pried his eyes open. Riley followed behind me, carrying his shoes, his jacket, and a bag of toys to keep herself entertained.

4PM HT showed up in the ER, never more attractive. His boss covered for him.

Albuteral, chest x-ray, more vomiting. PNEUMONIA! He has pneumonia. Antibiotics,IV fluids (hysteria upon insertion), hours of Sponge Bob. Riley almost flipped out on the IV team when they got in the way of the TV, but we were able to reign her in.

8:30PM Home.

9:00 Put Seth in tub to wash off puke.

9:30 Kids in bed.

9:50 MSNBC said Obama got Ohio!

11:00PM. The election was called.

12:00AM We brought the kids downstairs to watch Obama's address. Seth cheered. Asked who the guy with the "peach" skin was(Biden). Riley promptly fell back to sleep on the couch and would have no memory of being woke up. Obama's win was news to her this morning.

Seth is okay.

Riley got through a very crazy day(with her very crazy mother).

Todd showed up.

Obama won.

The people win.

Life is good.

A New Day

Election Day

Vote.

Miss Manners

Seth is sick. Sore throat, runny nose. Anyway, this precluded him from going to a birthday party for a little girl in his class yesterday. I could not find the invitation, so I called another mom from his class to see if I could get the birthday girl's number. I didn't want to be rude and just not show up without a call, after I'd RSVP'd. It went like this:

"Hello? C____? It's Michelle, Seth's mom. Do you happen to have little J's #? Seth's sick and can't make it to the party today and I lost the invite so I don't have their number."

"Um. What party? I guess my kid wasn't invited."

Crap!

"Oh. I'm sorry. I thought in kindergarten it was standard to invite the whole class."

Crap! Crap! Crap!

"Did she send invitations in the mail?"

"Well, no she gave Seth's to me at school. But she might have sent out the rest. We're not in the directory. Maybe yours got lost in the mail?"

"Huh. I don't know. I'm in the car now, so I don't have their number."

For the love of God, Crap!

"Oh, okay. Sorry to bother you!"

So much for not being rude.

In my defense, I don't know kiddie birthday party etiquette since my oldest has yet to be invited to one.

Thinking Ahead

Walking home from school, we passed the lone McCain sign on our street.

"Does John McCain like war?" Riley asked.

"I don't know Sweetie."

"Do some people like war?"

"It seems some people do."

We walked a few more paces. Seth was running along, way up in front of us.

"Riley, did you know this election is historic? No black man has ever run for president before."

We walked hand in hand, me with a book bag on each shoulder, lousy kids.

"When I'm 18 I'm going to vote for president. Whoever doesn't want war, I'm going to vote for him or her," she said.

I smiled.

"There's never been a woman president either Riley, but I believe there might be in your lifetime."

She grinned and said,"Well maybe I'll vote for a black woman."

At that we high fived as we turned to walk up our driveway.