Room

I am probably the last person on the planet to read ROOM, but if not, if you still haven't read it. Do it. Immediately. But carve out a full day where you do nothing but turn pages (or sleep because you were up all night reading). Usually I am NOT one of those people that stays up too late reading - reading makes me sleepy at night, and I'm lucky if I get five pages in before nodding off. Not ROOM. Started the book on Thursday, stayed up reading and reading and reading, and couldn't wait to get all my pesky chores done on Friday so I could curl up and finish it.

While you're scheduling, add in at least 2-3 days of "after thought" and grieving. You will not stop thinking about this book, and to pick up a new one too quickly, feels like a betrayal. You're not ready. The book must be properly grieved.

Also, warn all your friends and family that you'll be able to speak of NOTHING else while said reading and grieving are taking place. You will be CONSUMED by this book. If you are a writer you'll be tempted to throw your computer out the window, you'll think and I call myself a writer.


Terry recommended this book to me over a year ago, and it took me that long to decide I could "handle it." It's the story of a woman and her son who are held captive in an 11x11 foot room. If the book had been told from her perspective it would have been too much to bear, but it's told through the eyes of her five-year-old son, Jack. Jack is loved and cherished and has what every child wants: a devoted mother, all to himself. He thinks life inside the room is great.

If you are a parent that would do anything for your child, this is the book for you. If you like a thriller, this is the book for you. If you want to forget all your problems and become obsessed with someone else's for the time being, this is the book for you.

For more information on ROOM, click here.

Please click on over and join me at Hopeful Parents today. Thanks!

Happy St. Patrick's Day!

"I take for my sureties:

The power of God to guide me,
The might of God to uphold me,
The wisdom of God to teach me,
The eye of God to watch over me,
The ear of God to hear me,
The word of God to give me speech,
The hand of God to protect me,
The way of God to go before me,
The shield of God to shelter me...

Christ be with me, Christ before me,
Christ behind me, Christ within me,
Christ beneath me, Christ above me,
Christ at my right, Christ at my left,
Christ in the heart of every man who thinks of me,
Christ in the mouth of every man who speaks to me,
Christ in every eye that sees me,
Christ in every ear that hears me."

               - St. Patrick

Two Great Reads

Really hard to sleep while I've been "tired," since all I do is blow my nose and cough. But, here's the good news: I'm on Season 5 of "Brothers and Sisters," have become EXPERT at Solitaire, and have read two of the best books.

THE SCHOOL OF ESSENTIAL INGREDIENTS is one my mom lent me, all she said was, "You'll love it." I did. Even though it talks a LOT about food and that is about 1001 on my list of things I'm interested in reading/talking about. It's one of those sweet books you can read quickly, but long after the characters float around in your brain in a happy way.

Then another friend recommended HEFT. She said it was un-put-down-able. I found that to be true. I read half the first day, half the second, and I am NOT a fast reader. I don't even want to tell you too much about it, it would spoil it. Just get the book and enjoy great writing and again, wonderful characters.

Happy reading! Hope you all keep from getting "tired!"

Funny

So, turns out I caught Rojo's "tiredness." He came down with it Friday, and it hit me on Saturday. We spent the weekend mutually miserable. He kept telling me on Sunday, "I am 68% percent better. I will be 100% better tomorrow. I will go to school tomorrow." Since he hasn't missed a day of school in years, I believed him.

Monday morning came and I looked through my watery eyes and croaked through my up-all-night coughing voice, "How are you feeling?" I could tell by the look in his eyes he wasn't his promised 100%, but I also thought his desire to go to school would be so strong he'd tell me he was fine.

Sure enough, "Fine," is what he said.

"Do you want to stay home with me one more day?" I asked, again, believing he'd never go for it.

"Yea," he said. "I'm still pretty 'tired.'"

"Okay, I will call the school and let them know you won't be here." Relief flooded his face.

We then spent the day in self-imposed quarantine, trying to contain our constant sneezing, coughing, blowing, to two rooms of the house - him in the TV room, me in my room just down the hall so as to minimize the chance of Woohoo and STM catching whatever it is we have. (And if you think I was going to spend the day in the TV room with him watching "Zach and Cody" you've got another think coming.)

I'd offered over the weekend to go get frozen yogurt and bring it to him, but he'd declined. On Monday he  e-mailed me from his iPad in his room, to my computer in mine. "Did you want to get frozen yogurt today? Two bowls. Regular flavors. Graham cracker, Oreo and 2 gummy worms on top." Of course I was jumping up and down to leave the warmth of my house, bundle up and face the elements, drive to get yogurt looking and feeling like you-know-what.

When I got home with the yogurt he came downstairs and sat at the breakfast bar to eat it. He grinned from ear-to-ear, and at one point started to laugh. "What's so funny?" I asked.

"Heaven!" he said pointing skyward, as if that was the most logical answer in the whole entire world.

And who am I to disagree?

Sick Day

Knew something was amiss the minute I picked Rojo up from school yesterday, and he declined my offer to take him for frozen yogurt, AND didn't want to go to the school to play with the dogs and see all his friends. "I just want to go home and have quiet time." Although there are plenty of hours in the day when Rojo is doing his thing, he is never, ever, ever quiet.


He was. Like a stone. "Are you sick?" I asked.

His face got red and tears sprang to his eyes. "You know that hurts my feelings when you say that. Don't say I am sick! I am not sick!"

"Should I say you're just tired?"

"Yes! Just say I am tired! I am not sick!"

"I know you're not sick, but I'm going to give you Motrin - it will help you not feel so 'tired.'"

"Okay," he said without a fuss.

Gave him Motrin, got him cozy in the TV room with Flicka and some show aimed at the preschool set, and he stared silently at it.

I suggested we "start the process" for bed early - an hour early - and again, he didn't protest. He obligingly let me brush his teeth, smear his head with Clearasil and tuck him into bed.

When he got up at 5:50 he went straight to the Motrin and asked for another dose. "I don't think I can do what we were going to do today - I'm still... 'tired,' but I will feel better tomorrow."

I cancelled our plans (an all day event for his upcoming Confirmation) got out the sleeping bag, made him a proper bed in the TV room and got him situated with water, snacks, Kleenex, a waste basket and Flicka. I've checked on him a million times, and he's eating and drinking, perking up by the hour and was even YouTubing ice cream songs a little bit ago - complete with humming and thumping of his foot.

It's a guilty pleasure, but when ADHD takes a sick day, it's kind of nice.

Tired

Took Rojo to the eye doctor yesterday morning for his yearly exam. Used to go every three months. Used to put drops in the good eye every single day of a squirming, screaming, little boy since he wouldn't tolerate a patch, and his bad eye was bad, and we were all about strengthening the bad eye before the window of opportunity closed. Used to be the appointments were pure torture, he'd have to get dilated, it would take three of us to hold him down for that. Used to take two hours for the appointment what with all the waiting room, dilation, waiting room, exam by the assistant, exam by the doctor, etc. Brutal.

Now we whisk in, sit briefly in the waiting room amongst all the other parents at the beginning of this journey, holding their small children on their laps, and bracing themselves for what's to come. And come. And come.

We were at the doctor's less than 30 minutes total yesterday - no dilation, he can accurately tell you what he can and cannot see, and we're out of there - usually with a new Rx that's slightly but not significantly different. "Normal change in vision."

The doctor looked through Rojo's big, fat file and said, "Wow, I've been seeing Rojo for 10 years, and he's been coming to this office for thirteen (his first doctor retired) hard to believe," she said.

"Not for me," I said. "When he first came here he didn't know his letters, the doctor gave me pictures of things like a birthday cake, a ball, and an airplane. She wanted me to practice with him at home, so he could give them a better idea of what he was seeing. I blew up the pictures, mounted them on card stock and then laminated them. They were giant flash cards I used to drill him with so he could come and take his eye exam."

When STM asked about Rojo's eye doctor appointment, I told him the whole story about how much used to go into each visit, how often we had to go, how far we've come. "No wonder we're tired," he said.

"No wonder," I said.

A Good Egg

When I'm not "busy" playing solitaire, I'm making my way through five seasons of "Brothers and Sisters." I can proudly say I'm on Season 4. One of the story lines involves brother Kevin and his partner selecting an egg donor for the child they hope to have together.

This is pushing all my buttons, and not the ones you might think. No, the big button getting pushed is the whole idea that there are good eggs and bad eggs, and one can select the good by scrolling through an Internet data base, and avoid the bad ones all together.

When a woman well into her 40's gets pregnant, we all know the chances for a "good egg" are slim. "Infinitesimal" one might say. Then we all have our opinions about what one should do knowing she's passed on a "bad egg." I'm not here to debate the right to life. I'm not here to sway anyone to one side or the other on any of those hot topics. No. I'm here to ask us to reconsider what we consider "good."

Had I been an egg donor in my early 20's, I may very well have been chosen. I would have looked mighty good on "paper" (and come to think of it, that's all we had in my 20's). What would the couple have done if after carefully selecting me, they came to have a Rojo? Wanted their money back?

I don't think that Rojo is the result of a "bad" egg (or sperm). I don't think there's anything bad about him or his conception, or the life he leads and the ones he touches.

* Photo from http://www.women-health-info.com

Solitaire Wisdom Pt. 2

I've come to the convenient conclusion that playing solitaire on the iPad, while snuggling Flicka in the chair-and-a-half, is about the best possible use of my time. Somehow the tap, tap, tapping and moving the "cards" around opens up places in my mind that I did not previously have access to.

Plus, there's a "hint" button.

I've set the game so that it only deals winning hands. That means, it is possible to win each game. Doesn't mean I always do. There are all kinds of ways to screw up, or simply guess wrong, when faced with two seemingly similar choices. The beauty is when you don't know what to do, you simply click "hint" and it shows you what you can do. Then, if you still screw up, there's the ever-helpful "undo" button. As a last resort, you play the game, get stuck, can't win, know it's possible to win, you just click "replay game" and you take everything you learned from your previous attempt(s) and go at it again.

I do think life is a game of solitaire. We have all kinds of hints, undos, and even re-plays with the winning hand we're dealt. It's just a matter of using them.

What's Next?

Took Rojo to the doctor for a camp physical. For a boy that never washes his hands, eats the least nutritious diet of anyone I know, doesn't exercise, etc., he is pretty much the picture of health. He hadn't been to the doctor, not once, since his last physical a year ago. In that year he's gained 21 pounds. In two years he's gained 36. At 15 1/2 years-old and 5 ' 8" he's still not even 100 lbs. He has a ways to go, but we're heading in the right direction. Every pound that boy gains, takes a good month off my life, I swear. What he'll eat, when and where is a full-time job.

Had three dear long-term friends over for dinner last week. They've known me since before I was married, before Woohoo, before Rojo. We were talking about "what's next" for each of us. I said I was just riding this lull I'm in, and not sure at all about what's next. "I can't really work, because I will always have Rojo to take care of when he's not in school, and anything else I do needs to fit in around that, I can never get him to fit in around whatever else it is I do."

"Obviously," they all agreed.

I did the math. Rojo has three more school years left. Three more years where for 9 months of the year he'll go to school at least most of the days. After that he'll be in some sort of transition program, but the chances that it will be M-F for full days are pretty slim. Then he'll be mine, mine, mine. I will work like a dog to get him some meaningful employment, but let's face it, it will not be full-time and will require my involvement.

STM tells me all the time he won't make it to 60. Woohoo is leaving for college in the fall. We have three elderly parents. Not to be morbid or pessimistic, but the fact remains, it is inevitable that I will be the full-time caregiver of a very hyper, differently abled person eventually.

All that goes into my thinking when people ask me, "What's next?" As most of my dear friends are, or are on the brink of being, empty nesters, I have come to accept that my path takes me elsewhere. True, STM may live a good long time. True, other angels are in our lives and will doubtlessly continue to come into our lives, and I will never be "alone." True, Rojo may be able to live in some sort of supported housing situation at some point. True, none of us really knows what's around the corner, we just think we do, and as I always say, "The only difference is special needs parents just know that they don't know."

True.

The question for right now is, how do I want to spend the next three years of my life? Writing? Re-writing? Volunteering? Cleaning up the same messes over and over and over? Re-decorating my house? Taking a class? Learning how to do something new? Sitting on my can playing Solitaire?

I don't know. And if I've learned anything, it's when you don't know what to do, do nothing.


* Photo from http://redpenconfessions

Score One for the Ladders

I just e-mailed two friends to tell them I took their suggestion (they had the same suggestion), that I watch and get properly hooked on the PBS show, "Downton Abbey." When I was in Philly visiting Terry, she, her husband Greg and I, started the series on Netflix, and worked our way through the entire first season. Then, Greg being all techy, hooked up his laptop to their fancy schmancy system and we were able to stream onto their big screen, a few episodes of Season 2 straight from PBS.org before, sadly, I had to go home. Plans are already underway for me to time my visit next year for the premiere of Season 3.

But that's not the point.

The point is two people that know me well, my tastes, my likes, my dislikes, all of that, recommended something to me, and I'm super glad I followed up and tried it. I had to e-mail them to thank them, and suggested they gloat for awhile in the knowledge that that their suggestion was heard, AND followed, AND appreciated. The big trifecta.

I would be so smug there'd be no living with me if people took all my suggestions/advice! And I'm full of it! Got all kinds of ideas of what people should do with their lives. I've reluctantly come to accept, however, that the struggle and journey is where the ju-ju is, and if we all went around following good advice it would be like playing "Chutes and Ladders," and getting all lucky cards and going straight to the top of the board via long ladders, never having to mess with a chute. Sure, you'd "win," but what would be the fun of it? You'd actually be bored and find the whole game a waste of time.

Winning isn't the point. The ups and downs are the point.

Still, I'm glad I took their "ladder," and am excited to see where the next ladder might take me if I allow myself to take it, too, avoiding the "chutes" my ego has in place. The ones that tell me I have to do everything the hard way. The ones that tell me no pain, no gain. The ones that tell me that surrendering is quitting, and that to let go means to give up. You know the ones.

Spread the Word to End the Word

I had lunch today with my friend Kerstin. She is a public high school teacher and she had an incident with a student using the R-word that was so upsetting (too upsetting for me to even recount), she was spurred to go home and spend the next four days creating this video. As she said, "It was a net gain."

She found the making of the video cathartic - and brutal. Hard to go back and look at all those pictures. Hard to go back there and look at all the heartache, hard work and heroism. Hard to go back. Period.

Her oldest daughter has different memories. Happy ones. Times that were brutal to Kerstin, are remembered as happy family times to her oldest daughter. "That's because we had scheduled grieving," Kerstin said. "We'd force ourselves to go out there and do 'fun' things, get our oldest daughter off to bed, then sob our hearts out."

Now Kerstin can grieve at her leisure. Producing this video helped her to do so. It also helped her to heal, which good grieving always does.

Top 10 Things Rojo Has Proposed Giving Up for Lent

10. Coke (which he doesn't drink)

 9. Carrots (which he doesn't eat)

 8. Taking a shower

 7. Brushing his teeth

 6. Making his bed

 5. Taking out the garbage

 4. Using a nice tone of voice

 3. Traveling to Europe ('nuf said)

 2. Hamburgers (which I'm forever trying to get him to eat)

 1. Vitamins

Lenton Vows 2012

Lent is a time of prayer, "fasting," and almsgiving. I've been mulling over what to do for Lent this year, and since it starts on Wednesday, I'd better get to gettin. I think what I'm going to do is "fast" from buying coffee when I'm out running around. I don't need the extra caffeine, I don't need the extra dairy, I don't need the extra expense, I don't need any part of it whatsoever, yet every single day I wrestle with myself over whether to "just pop in" on my way to ______, ________, or ___________. I think what I'll do this year is add up the average I spend per week on this nasty habit, and donate it to some cause that will feed starving people actual food, instead of whatever it is I'm consuming that isn't doing one single thing to "feed" me.

I also think I'll put one item per day in the Goodwill bag (might not actually go to Goodwill, but for me that is synonymous with donating). God knows there are at least 40 extra "things" lying around here, despite the fact I donate a huge bag at least once or twice a month. There's always more than we need, and that just ain't right. I'm all for having everything we need, but do I "need" 20 purses? 18 of which I haven't used in years/decades? Instead of doing some deep purge, I think I'll just look around the house mindfully each day, and ask myself, "What could be better used by someone else?""Who needs this more than I do?"

As for prayer, I am going to work on using my morning prayer time to empty my mind, not run through "the list." I've gotten better about not making prayer a fancy wish-making time, even basking in gratitude at times, but still, I have a long way to go in making it a time of listening, and not "speaking."

And, as always, we will not be "fasting" from saying alleluia at the Link house.

Alleluia.

Alleluia.

Alleluia.

Amen.



* Photo from http://www.turnbacktogod.com

I am at Hopeful Parents today writing "the other one." Thanks for joining me there!

love.

Lucky Iowa

Luke 17:21

"... nor will people say, 'Here it is,' or 'There it is,' because the kingdom of God is within you." (NIV)

So the other night while Rojo was eating his dinner, he reminded me that in a few short years we'd all be living in Anaheim, he'd be working at Disneyland, and I would never need to worry about missing him, because we'll live together forever.

"One problem," he said between bites. "Do they have heaven in Anaheim?"

"Heaven isn't a place," I answered, "it's a state of mind, it's within us - it's the part of us that's a part of God."

"No," he said, "heaven is in Des Moines."

Dearly Much

Had a great birthday yesterday, top 3, and am struggling to think of which ones beat it, so let's just go ahead and call it top birthday of all time.

We had our family gift exchange at 6:30 AM. I had little valentines for everyone and Rojo had made cards he was super excited to give. I'd helped him, but when it came to do mine, he wouldn't let me look, instead, grabbing the card and putting it in the envelope himself, then asking me to hide it so I wouldn't find it. He did not disappoint. He never does. Feels good to be loved dearly much.

STM had given me a dozen red roses over the weekend - wanting to beat the rush and making sure they didn't run out, then thought it was silly to hide them until Tuesday, so gave them to me early to enjoy, which I did. Nice to stretch it all out, I say. Birth "day" just isn't enough. I require a full week. STM also gave me a jigsaw puzzle, suggesting it might be nice to get back to that old past time of mine (and give Rojo back his iPad). Woohoo gave me really sweet and thoughtful gifts, too.

Kathleen made an early morning drop off of balloons, tulips (my fave), a bottle of yummy wine and running gloves which I'd asked for. NEHBM of getting what you ask for. Got the kids out the door and then STM and I took Flicka on a really nice walk, getting home right before it started to pour. He left, I had fun cleaning up and doing things I love like starting the dishwasher AND the washing machine at the same time, which never fails to give me a neurotic sense of joy.

Then I marched myself down to the closest Starbucks and redeemed my free birthday drink - grande mocha, full fat, with whip. Ran into our friend Tom there and enjoyed a visit with him. Came home with my drink, curled up in the chair-and-a-half with Flicka, got out the iPad and played solitaire, while taking phone calls and texts from friends far and wide wishing me happy birthday.

Got picked up at 1:00 by Nancy, who gave me some lovely (but too personal to mention) gifts, and drove me to have lunch with Kathleen and our friend Diane - the birthday group. We lingered so long that I only had a little while to freshen up before going to dinner with STM! We went to our favorite haunt, ordered exactly what we always do, sat in our favorite booth, and had a leisurely, delightful meal and conversation.

Came home to a house with no Woohoo, no Rojo, no Flicka, and did what anyone else would do under those circumstances - went right into the DVR recording of "The Bachelor" from the previous night.

Just a day filled with love and special people from beginning to end. Thank you for the calls, e-mails, texts, and Facebook messages! I love you dearly much!

Rojoism of the Day

So it must be all the probiotics in the $50 + worth of frozen yogurt the boy eats a week, but let's just say, he's having no problem keeping things "moving." This weekend he went into the bathroom for the second time that day to do you-know-what, and came out saying, "Ahh... that was great. Now I'm not complicated."


* Photo from http://www.mommyshangout.com

Letting Go

So, had a great trip to Philly to see Toeless. As an extra bonus, I planned my trip to route through Minneapolis/St. Paul with a long layover. My agent lives there, and we were able to have a delightful two hours together catching up, laughing, talking shop and just enjoying each other's company. Super fun. She is full of good ideas and determination to get this book "out." If anyone can, she can! Go ahead and light the Marys, though, if you're so inclined. "Let it be," is my prayer for the book. Whatever "be" is. I no longer MUST have it published to consider myself a "real" writer. By the same token, I am no longer holding it back energetically because I'm afraid. I've let it go. And it feels great.


Terry and I had 3 full days together. We slept in, drank excellent coffee from carefully selected mugs, went for long walks, showered about 2 PM and then started Wine O'Clock by 5 (although in four nights we didn't even finish 2 bottles). Really, it's just impossible not to have fun when you're with Toeless. Impossible. I laugh just thinking about her. And laugh we did. At one point we had that intoxicating can't catch your breath, can't stop howling, tears pouring down your face and snot running down your nose kind of five minute laugh. Your basic heavenly experience.

We did have plenty of HDRs, though, too, it wasn't solid hilarity. We actually got into it immediately when she picked me up from the airport, and she said, "It's amazing what happens when you stop white knuckling it." She was talking about business, clients, making everyone happy, and I thought about how far I've come in being good with the outcome of my book.

Not enough can be made of the fact that when I met Terry 17 years ago, she worried all the time about two things: her weight and money. Year after year during my visits these worries were ever-present, until a few years ago she consciously decided to stop fixating on her weight. She hasn't gained a pound since doing so. Then she let go of her anxiety around money - the scarcity mentality - gone. Poof. Her expenses have, and will, only go up (she has a son going to NYU in the fall). Her fear that there will not be enough, however, has only gone down.

You can read all the self-help books, listen to all the experts, know that it's true, but to behold it for yourself when you see a loved one profoundly lighter, is powerful.

Perfect Understanding of Himself

Lots of things to tell you, all in good time. About my trip to Philly. About my planet-imposed blogstipation. About my feeling like a big chapter is closing, and another exciting one is opening up. About turning 49 next week. But for now, we are all in need of a Rojo-ism, am I right?

At Rojo's school he has a class called "Support." This semester they are going to help the kids better understand their own diagnosis, learn to self-advocate and form a written body of work they can pass on to future teachers, to help them work effectively with them. Rojo has three eligibilities: ASD (PDD-NOS), Communication Disorder (long story why I wanted him to have that, on top of ASD), and ADHD. He knows in no uncertain terms he has ADHD. He can tell you all about how hyper he gets without his meds, how it makes it hard for him to focus, how he's easily distracted, etc. He knows that learning is hard for him. He knows he's in a class where everyone needs extra help. He knows he's going to camp this summer where again, everyone has "something" and needs extra help. We've talked about Asperger's, classic autism and PDD-NOS and how that makes up autism spectrum disorder, which he has.

Every time it comes up or I bring it up, he jumps off the topic immediately. I've always taken that as my clue that he doesn't want to talk about it, or is comprehending it as best he can at that particular point. But because there is going to be quite some discussion/work on this at school, I brought it up again last night.

"Rojo, you know how we've said you don't exactly have autism or Asperger's like _________ or __________, but that you do have autism spectrum disorder? Well, you're going to learn more about that in Support, and learn how to advocate for yourself, and help your other teachers understand you better."

"Will we go around the room and tell what we have?" he asked.

"I'm not sure."

"I want to. I want everyone to ask me what I have, so I can tell them I have optimism!"

Need I say more?



* To order your own IEP T-shirt, click here.

Oxygen Mask

Here's a neat Website you should know about. I may or may not get some ass kissing in this particular post I'm sending you to. You've been warned. Oxygen Mask

love.


And speaking of oxygen masks, I'm off to Philly tomorrow for my annual oxygen mask-a-thon with Toeless Terry. See you on the other side!

2+2

Been thinking about new dishes for years. My set is from Target - less than $50 for the whole shebang, and it shows. I'm down to 5 salad plates, 6 bowls, 5 dinner plates and 7 mugs. Even those are in bad shape - chipped, stained, cracked, you-name-it.

Thought about getting Fiestaware - classic, great color choices, go with everything, durable, easy to replace pieces, etc. Did some pre-shopping, looked at prices, added it all up, left the store thinking too expensive. Plus, how would I ever decide which bowl, which salad plate size, with so many to choose from. Blew my fuses so I tabled the whole thing and continued using the Target stuff.

Had to go to the mall for something else (new jeans for Rojo, if you must know, he's growing like a weed). Had a few minutes to kill before I had to pick him up from school, so wandered into Macy's. There was Fiestaware in 4-piece boxes, $50, with a BUY ONE GET ONE FREE deal. 8-pieces for $50? Wow!!! Didn't have time to make the purchase before getting Rojo, so went home and ruminated on it for several more days.

Got my friend Nancy to save her Macy's coupon for me (we don't get the newspaper, but as I recall Macy's ALWAYS has a coupon in there), then marched myself back there yesterday before getting Rojo from school again. Allowed plenty of time. Was so tickled with myself for getting the sets, giving her the coupon, and even presenting a gift card I'd found when I helped Woohoo sort through her disaster of a room. She had no idea if there was money on the card still, but I am nothing if not cheap, so I took a risk. Yes, a full $2.55 left, made me happy.

Got home and showed STM. "Where are the rest?" he asked.

"What do you mean? I got 8 pieces, they're right here!"

"You got eight pieces, but didn't you want 8 place settings?"

Um. Yea. About that.

Went back today and got the other SIX place settings, even got to use my coupon, too. They're in the dishwasher now getting excited to go in my cupboard, and I'm excited to learn how to add.

Nothing Says Romance Like...

For Christmas I asked STM for two things, one being doorknobs for the remaining four doorknob-less doors to our home that we moved into 8 years ago. I knew the minute we moved in after renovations, the renovations would stop, and I was right. "Just a few doorknobs," he told me. Eight years later....

Don't have my doorknobs yet, but they are on order. Progress.

The other thing I have asked him for for each gift giving occasion since my cousin's husband died and left her with all kinds of *&^% to handle on top of everything else during her time of grief, was an If I Die List. I'm not even an authorized signer on STM's business accounts. I couldn't pay the bills if I tried. If he died tomorrow, even with an iron clad will, we'd be in a world of hurt.

So, for my birthday next month I am definitely getting both doorknobs AND the If I Die List, and on Wednesday we are meeting at the bank and signing in all the right places so that I can write checks with abandon the minute he dies.

To be fair, I have created my own If I Die List. There are accounts I have from which I pay certain bills. There are passwords and all kinds of things that are just in my head and he'd never know what to do with if he had to, either. I'm cleaning all that up and giving him the method to my madness.

A friend of mine's husband was full of vim and vigor one day, in ICU the next. Stuff happens. It may not be the most romantic of gifts, but if, God forbid, we ever need to refer to the lists, we'll sure feel loved.

Going Bigger with Nothing

Didn't do a damn thing today. Well, sure, did walk the dog, did some laundry, took Rojo and his friend "Baz" out for yogurt, even made dinner and cleaned up. But there was plenty of napping, solitaire and Netflix, too. And by plenty I mean hour after hour after blissful hour. Kept thinking, I should go though all those stacks on my desk, or I need to deal with that closet I keep not dealing with, or any number of other things that need doing around here, but in no particular hurry.

On the solitaire game I downloaded, there is a cool "hint" button. When you are stuck and can't figure out another move, you press "hint" and it will show you possible moves. You feel ridiculous when you missed an obvious one or two, and vindicated when it flashes, "No useful moves detected."

Long about the 10th "No useful moves detected" today I realized that while there was plenty I could be doing, none of them were truly as useful as sitting on my can.


 * Photo from http://my.greasy.com

Jumping and Falling

So, we decided to find a good home for our trampoline. Neither kid has so much as taken a single jump on it in ages. Their friends like to jump, but even when they come over, they don't often make it out there, and let's face it, their friends are getting older, too. The trampoline was a great investment, it's been well used, and now it needs to go.

We're giving it to a young family we know from school and church. Actually, I wrote about my "chance" encounter with the father, Mike, and his two kids over a year ago, but I can't remember what I named that post, so can't find it for you - sorry. Maybe you'll remember, though, Flicka climbed up on the play structure at the park, and Mike's kids ended up taking Flicka for walks with the leash, and Mike and I struck up a conversation. Turns out we are both raising sons with special needs. Turns out he went home and Googled me, found my blog, found my e-mail address. Turns out his wife, Amy, is in my support group now, and we're all on our way to becoming BFFs, because, as you well know, there are no accidents.

Amy and the kids came over to measure the trampoline and let the kids jump. We had texted Amy earlier in the afternoon to see if they could join us for frozen yogurt after jumping. Amy said they'd love to, but would it be okay if we went with Mike, because she had a doctor appointment, and she and Mike were going to switch at our house Rojo and I were both down with that idea. Rojo chatted Mike up one side and down the other, going so far as to invite their whole family to move to Disneyland with us when he graduates from high school (that plan is still very much in effect).

At yogurt we sat in five side-by-side stools, ate, visited, and then it became clear the kids were all done, and it was time to skedaddle. We walked them to their car, said goodbye, and no sooner had Rojo jumped into my car and buckled up, did he say, "I like Mike. He's the right kind of man."

Both parents handled both kids beautifully - like they should write a book or teach parenting classes type of good. Rojo particularly related to Mike, I think, because he's the type of dad Rojo aspires to be. Whenever Rojo tells me about his future parenthood, it always includes him taking his kids out for ice cream.

Some people take the jump into parenting. Some fall into it. Some were born for it.




* Photo from http://trampolinegame

Blame the Planets

There's a reason my blog posting has been spotty at best, and there's a reason there's not much I can do about it. The reason is this: my writing planets are all out of whack. STM and I went for our annual check-in with our friend the astrologer, and she said it was all right there on my charts. "This is not a time for writing. In fact, do you want to know when you're going to feel like writing again?" Of course I did, and the answer was right there in her handy dandy book, "September 19th. Until then, only write when the mood strikes you, and that might not be before September, and that's fine. There's just no wind behind that sail until then."

And that's just exactly what it feels like to me, like there is just an occasional breeze, but no wind there. Problem is, there's not much breeze, let alone wind, behind anything lately for me. Apparently all that was on the chart, too. "It's a period of rest for you. I know that's a four-letter word, but it's important that you take this time and do just that."

In the seventeen-and-a-half years I've been a parent, this is the first time I'm not racing through my days and nights breathless, racing to get it all done. This is the first time my days have had windows of time where I sit in the over-sized chair with Flicka and play solitaire on Rojo's iPad, or read a book, or take a nap. This is the first time I've sat with STM in the living room at night and watched whatever it is he's watching on TV (you don't even want to know).

I told the astrologer that I felt like I should find something more useful to do with my time, volunteer, start a project, plan for Rojo's transition to adulthood, something. She said that there was a force equally strong in my chart that wanted to learn new things, not for a degree or even for a career, but just for the pleasure of learning. Right now I can't imagine having the brain capacity to learn a single thing, and nothing even sounds fun or exciting, but the idea that something might sound fun and exciting after this period of rest, is fun and exciting.

"The back 9," these years I'm entering where I'm getting closer to the "club house," I believe will be the best and most fulfilling of my life. There is no end of possibilities, but for now, I rest.



* Photo from www.awakening-healing.com

Unique Qualities

Toeless' husband, Greggy, is taking a class, and the professor wanted them to list their unique qualities - things they did easily and well, that others may not. The assignment was to ask others to help them identify them, which is brilliant, since so often we are blind to our own gifts.

I told him that he had way more than one, but if I had to boil it down, it was his unbridled enthusiasm, his genuine interest in others that made you feel like you were a rock star, every time you were around him. I've only known a handful of people in my life that have that quality. It's not like other people make me feel bad about myself, it's just that there is something, well, unique about the way they make anyone feel that comes into contact with them.

I've been thinking and writing about this for awhile, especially in terms of Rojo's unique gifts, of which there are many. His purity, his vast love, his compassion, his generosity, all amazing. I think the one that makes him stand out more than anything else, though, is his lack of ego. He simply doesn't have one. There is no spiritual wrestling match going on inside of him, no angel/devil on his shoulder, no posturing himself, no concern over how to make himself get ahead/more. Zero.

I think most of humanity could use an Individual Educational Plan, a plan in which we strive to be ego-less 80% of the time, a plan in which a team of ego-less specialists train and assist in that, mark our progress and keep us on track. I'm thinking we turn the tables, get the ones like Rojo and many others like him I know, to let them do what they came here to do... teach.



* Photo from http://upload.wikimedia.org

I'm at Hopeful Parents today, writing about something I've written much about already, and will likely write about again soon! Thanks for joining me!

Celebrate

I can't speak for everyone (but would dearly love to), I just know that one thing I don't do nearly enough, is celebrate. I think, I'll feel so good when that is done/settled/over/successful/etc... and I count down the days until it is. Then the day comes and goes without so much as an extra-shot in my cappuccino.

Well, no more, I tell you, no more. I gathered three dear friends for happy hour in early January to celebrate the fact that none of us killed anyone all of Christmas vacation. We may have each considered it, but none of us actually did it. Big.

Not every event needs to include Champagne, food, a gathering and a lot of hoopla, but something, some way of marking goodness.

Top 10 Things I Could Celebrate Just Today:

10. I finally mopped the kitchen floor that's needed it for a good two weeks

 9. The sun is out and it's a gorgeous, cold, January day

 8. Yesterday the sunrise was so spectacular I couldn't stop talking about it

 7. I even noticed the sunrise and took time to look at it (albeit, I was walking with Kathleen and she drew my attention to it)

 6. I am getting really, really good at solitaire

 5. I have time to play solitaire

 4. I bought a bunch of primroses and planted them in my window boxes yesterday - they make me happy every time I look out the window

 3. We may have finally found the right med/dosage for Rojo's ADHD, after MUCH trial and error

 2. I get to go visit Toeless in February!

 1. STM closed a deal he's been working on for MONTHS!

Solitaire

We did get Rojo an iPad for Christmas, and a friend of mine with one mentioned that solitaire was highly addicting, so, naturally, within ten minutes of her telling me that, I'd loaded that app and was well on my way to developing a problem.

You can play a game in 2-3 minutes, so easy to say, "Oh, just one more..." until pretty soon you've pissed away an hour or three. There must be something about the game that occupies the right hemisphere of the brain, allowing the left brain to be free to roam. I find myself getting almost trance-like while playing, deeply relaxed and reflective, rather than obsessive. Let's just say it's working for me - that's my story and I'm sticking with it.

My dad taught me how to play solitaire (and other card games). He had such a sharp mind, could always see and explain strategy, was always three steps ahead of me. I realize now, at almost 50, how exasperating I must have been for him - not as quick, not as ambitious, not as competitive, no matter how hard he tried to get me to be. When I finally made up my mind about where I was going to go to college and told him, he was underwhelmed. When I finally decided in my sophomore year I'd be a teacher, again, underwhelmed. I always felt like he was disappointed, that the bar was too high for me, that nothing I did made him happy.

During my hours of solitaire, I've been able to see it a different way. As a woman now with a daughter choosing between the very college I went to and one that's "better," I see how a parent could feel the way he did. No matter what she chooses she'll be fine, and I will not be disappointed, she can and does make me happy, and I hope she feels she clears the bar every day, all day long. It's just that I think she's great, and is headed for greatness, and want greatness for her. But what is "greatness?"

Although I am a long way away from being the doctor my father hoped I'd be, don't have an impressive resume, haven't done a lot that the world might call "great," my life has been, and is, indeed, great. I know that if my father were here he'd agree. I am happy. I have ALL my needs and damn near all my wants met. I have tons of people that love and care for me. I have laughter, I have health, I have, by all definitions that count, greatness.

I'd say the iPad has already paid for itself.

Camp

So, it's been decided around here that Rojo is ready to try summer camp. My friends with older kids with different abilities recommended one in particular - a whole camp just for this very thing. Not cheap, but a week without Rojo is a vacation for the rest of us, and nowhere are we going to get a vacation for the cost of camp, and so, we justify. Plus, Sandy, the woman that runs the preschool Rojo worked at all summer (and four blessed days during Christmas vacation), suggested camp numerous times, and this one most enthusiastically. I've been psyching Rojo up for this for months, and have him sold. His only condition is that he be home on his birthday.

My friend Joan reminded me when online registration began and urged me to do it immediately, as the camp fills up in the first week, and people registering even a couple days after registration opens, are often put on the waiting list for the weeks they request. Joan gave me paperwork, e-mails, links, you-name-it, everything I would need to make sure I got my place in line, on line, on time.

Today was the day. Had Post-its to remind me to set the alarm so I'd be up and fully caffeinated before the 6:00 opening of registration. I slept fitfully, looking at the clock several times in the night to make sure I hadn't over-slept. Woke up at 4:30 fully awake, lay there for half an hour, finally got up, caffed up, and booted up the computer. I was ready to click in all the right spots on the Website the minute the clock turned to 6:00:00. Did just that, and I was number 36 in line. Didn't even think about getting in line before 6:00, such a rule follower am I. I impatiently waited to move up in the virtual line, which thankfully only took about 5-6 minutes. I felt like I'd won the lottery when it said I was first in line, and then when the Website magically opened and had slots for me to enter information, I was on a high. Because I am notorious for being in a hurry and making careless mistakes, I was painstaking in my entering. I was just to the place where I was filling out emergency contact information, when suddenly the site put me back in the virtual line, this time, #76. I know I didn't push the browser or the refresh button, both which had been cautioned against. I just deleted a phone number that was incorrect (which the computer had automatically entered and I needed to substitute for right information), pressed "tab" and BOOM, to the back of the line I went.

The expletives flew. I put on pretty music, lighted the candles, did a few (shallow) cleansing breaths and tried to get myself right. Had to wait about 15 minutes to get back to my first place in line, and then JUST as the site opened up for me, BOOM, Safari quit unexpectedly. That has only happened to me a handful of times in the five years I've had this computer, and NEVER when I was doing something of significance (Facebook doesn't count). Oh, and let me back this up and tell you that at 5:00 Rojo was sound asleep and I had the quiet of the house. By 6:00 he was awake and thumping loudly, making the whole house pulse with his unmedicated hyperactivity and joy. By the time I got in line for the THIRD time (back to number 36), STM had left for work and he was ever-present with his uncontained joy. Let me just tell you, the LAST thing you want when you're trying to register your special needs child for camp, is the "help" of your special needs child.

"GET OUT OF HERE RIGHT NOW, I'M TRYING TO REGISTER YOU FOR CAMP! IF I DON'T DO IT RIGHT NOW, YOU CAN'T GO!" I shrieked. He took his joy and thumping and went and bothered Woohoo. I paced, I made the bed, I threw a load of laundry in, I brushed my teeth, neurotically checking the queue every 2 1/2 seconds. Finally, finally, just as Woohoo and Rojo had gotten themselves dressed and ready for school and were about to leave, I got on. I entered all the information (pages and pages of does he need help with this, that or the other thing questions), and submitted. RECEIVED! WOOHOO! Rushed downstairs and said goodbye to the kids. "You need to play solitaire on my iPad," Rojo said, "You need to calm down."

He's right. I'm going to make a cup of herbal tea, light another candle, breathe deeply, play a little solitaire, calm down, and thank God there is a camp so great that people are queued up to send their special needs child (ages 10-35) there. A place where campers go back year after year after year. A camp that campers say is their favorite week of their whole year. A place set up to accommodate them - make them feel successful and gain confidence. A place where they aren't special because they need help - everyone there needs help. They are special because they just are.




 * Photo from http://pdx.edu

Year of the Dragon

When Sonam was up visiting this past weekend, we spent a fair amount of time looking up everyone's Chinese zodiac sign, and seeing who is compatible with whom. Fortunately for our husbands, they are both compatible with us - good to know. STM is a pig, I am a rabbit. Sonam is also a rabbit. Her husband, my brother, is a goat. Woohoo is a dog, Rojo is a rat, Kunga is a rooster. My mother is a horse. It was amazing to see just how accurate they all were, except for STM's, he didn't really sound much like a typical pig (no comment).

We used this site to calculate our sign. I don't really understand it all very well, but find it fascinating. Sonam, having spent her whole childhood and young adulthood living in a Tibetan refuge camp in India, knows a lot more about it. Her mom can tell you all about the elements, all about compatibility, traits, luck, fortune, etc. Like I said, fascinating.

Sonam and I both had good 2011s, which was a rabbit year, so it makes sense that we rabbits would find "luck" in 2011. According to this, 2012 is going to be my lucky year, too, because I'm a not only a rabbit, but a water rabbit. Think it has something to do with me being February/Aquarius, although I've been told Aquarius is not a water sign, it's actually an air sign - so confusing.

Funny, I don't really believe in luck, per se. I believe in fate, I believe in destiny, I believe in karma, I believe in choices that produce consequences, but I don't really believe in luck. Maybe it's just a matter of semantics, maybe they are all words for the same thing. Whatever the case may be, I look forward to the year of the dragon.

Striving

Next month I'll turn 49. In 13 short months, I'll be 50. Fifty is fine with me. Fifty is not scary. Fifty is even welcome. The thing about it is, when I was growing up I had an image of myself at 50, all "grown up," and now that it's almost here, I am coming to terms with what is and is not accurate with that image.

50-year-old Carrie would have a library in her house, one with the built-in ladder, four walls of nothing but books and a comfy chair. 50-year-old Carrie would have a music room with a grand piano, and she and her musically gifted children would all play it beautifully. 50-year-old Carrie would have "real" furniture - not just a mattress and box springs, but a proper bed. There would be matching night stands and dressers, a short one for my husband and a taller one for me. I'd have an office with a desk, credenza, doors that close and all kinds of really amazing things would come out of that room. I'd probably have my Ph.D in teaching, and be teaching teachers how to teach children - especially exceptional learners. I'd have traveled extensively, my passport having been stamped from all kinds of exotics lands. I'd have learned to cook, bought real art and had it properly framed, I'd have crystal and know how to pick out a bottle of wine.

48-year-old almost 49-year-old Carrie is realizing, if she doesn't have it by now, hasn't done it by now, hasn't been there by now, she probably never will. It's not like I won't ever travel or learn something new, I might, but then again, I might not, and that's okay. I finally realized that what is gone is not the dream, but the striving.  I simply don't want to strive any more - not for things, not for adventure, not for accomplishments.

At almost 50 I want less, not more. Less stuff. Less acquaintances. Less high-maintenance relationships. Less drama. Less obligations. Less busyness. Less involvements with things that aren't important to me. I'm all done forcing things. In fact, that reminds me of a Toeless Terry story - she had a friend going through a divorce, and she asked him why. He said, "The woman forced flowers to bloom." I've never forgotten that (and I'm fairly sure there were bigger troubles in the marriage than forced flowers, but it does beg the question, what is the point in forcing things?).

So, I don't consider it being resigned, giving up, quitting, being lazy, any of that. I consider it being content with what I have. Letting things happen. Allowing. Accepting. Being grateful for what is, and not with my eyes on the horizon for what might be.


* Photo from http://www.sitepoint.com

2012

I was a lot more freaked out about 2012 three or four years ago, than I am now that it's here. You know, all the end of the Mayan calendar stuff. Not that I'm not a big believer that we're headed for something all right, I just don't think it's the end of the world, figuratively, or literally. I think, or chose to believe, we're headed for profound healing. I think so much of what's been off balance in our world, is going to start shifting back to center. If ever there was a year for the feminine divine to make a big comeback, it's 2012 - just sayin'.

My sister-in-law, Sonam, and nephew, Kunga, were up for the weekend. (Side note: They gave Rojo a U of O Rose Bowl T-shirt for Christmas, which he wore all day today, all the way to the Ducks first Rose Bowl victory since 1917! Go, Ducks!)

We went out for frozen yogurt all three days (Rojo and I are, without a doubt, their best and favorite customers). They had new year's resolutions forms you could fill out and get 20% off on your yogurt (when you spend $200/month on frozen yogurt, you'll save 20% every chance you get). Rojo, Sonam, Kunga and I talked about what we wanted for the new year. Both Sonam and I were, and are, hesitant to state our resolutions for lots of reasons. (You feel like a loser when you break them, it's like jinxing them, you should be working on improving yourself at all times, not just at the new year, blah, blah, blah.) We saw other people's resolutions taped along the bank of yogurt machines. There were lots and lots of "lose weight" and "eat better." But the ones that stood out to us were these:

Go to Tibet (Sonam is Tibetan, but has never been there. It's our dream to travel there together as soon as she has a US Visa - hers is Indian)

Be kind to myself

Be positive

Take time for myself

Forgive

Let it go

Apologize

Choose to be happy, instead of being right

Isn't it encouraging to think that right now, all over the world, there are people resolving to be kind? To forgive? To apologize? To let it go and to be happy?

Photo from www.washingtonpost.com

Fidelity

STM and I celebrate 20 years of wedded bliss today. Twenty. Years. That's a lot, don't you think? Feels like it to us, too. And that's why we went to Hawaii, because it is a lot. We're proud of ourselves, and without over-sharing, I'll just say, we should be.

Without a doubt, one of the best moves we ever made, was going through RCIA together, with Kathleen and her husband Jerry as our sponsors, and then joining the Church. It's not because it's Catholic. It's not because it's Christian. It's because it's an active, vital, loving, supportive community, right in our own backyard. It's our Cheers - a place where everyone knows our name, knows our story, loves and accepts us and supports us on our journey.

Say what you want about the Catholics (and I've said it all, and some of it I continue to say, so go ahead), but they revere marriage, and I think that's a good thing. There is much to support the institution inherent in the Church - again, a good thing. STM and I decided to milk some of that goodness yesterday, when we received a blessing from our priest, following the daily morning Mass. We had wanted to mark our 20th in some spiritual way, and asked the priest if he'd perform a blessing. We found a day that worked for everyone, and STM and I went to 8:00 AM Mass yesterday, surrounded by the holy elders, and basked in their goodness and wisdom. After they all cleared out, three of our favorite humans, all of whom happen to work at the Parish Center, stayed behind. Because they know of my love for Mary, we moved over to a beautiful statue of her, prayer candles aflame below her feet, and the priest performed a beautiful blessing, complete with a "You may kiss the bride," at the end.

The blessing came straight from the Book of Blessings, and it used the word "fidelity" several times. Both STM and I noticed, and talked about it later. Kathleen and I even dissected the word on our walk later that day. "Of course we have fidelity," I said, "we certainly don't have infidelity!" But I realized even as I was boasting, that just because we don't have that kind of infidelity, doesn't mean we both can't clean up our acts. Merriam-Webster defines fidelity as the quality or state of being faithful. Faithful - full of faith.

Isn't that, indeed, what a marriage needs to survive? Doesn't it need to be full of faith? Faith in each other? Faith in ourselves? And faith in something greater than ourselves?




* Photo from www.stmatthewcath.org

My Idea of a Good Time

Lately, after I get Rojo to bed, I either make myself a hot cup of this:

Or a big, round glass of this:

Light a whole bunch of these:

Throw something called an achy bakey in the microwave for three minutes, take out the fabric bag holding lavender scented seeds and place it on my leg that gives me fits, then watch a couple three of these:

I had always seen commercials for "Brothers and Sisters" but never watched it. Now I'm catching up, one delicious episode after another after another after another. At this rate I'll be through Season One by New Years!

Joy Boy

We have nicknamed Rojo Joy Boy. The boy just exudes (loudly) joy, pretty much 24/7. At times when I'm ready to strangle him due to the excessive (loud) joy, I remember that many a mom would give her right arm to have a child that is not only happy, but as I say, joyful (and loud). Moms that have never heard their children speak, never heard them laugh, sing, give glory to God in the highest while YouTubing church songs. None of that.

This is Joy Boy's favorite song in the whole entire world. Know any other fifteen year old boys that go around with their hands in the air and a smile a mile long, singing alleluia?

Me, neither.

I Am in Here

I am on a reading frenzy, frenzy, I tell you. I can (and do) go months without finishing a single book, then every now and then I just can't stop. I have a stack of books as long as my arm of unread books by my bed, and am determined to get through the stack before I allow myself to even consider buying a new book.

I sat down with I Am in Here a couple days before Christmas, and despite the fact it was a couple days before CHRISTMAS, still managed to read the whole thing in less than 24 hours. I Am in Here is not just another autism book. I've had it up to here with your standard mom-of-a-kid-with-autism book. I've lived it, I don't need to live it all again in my free time.

Virginia Breen is the author, her daughter, Elizabeth co-authors the book. Elizabeth is unable to speak, but writes beautiful poetry that allows everyone reading the book to see into her mind, and by extension, have greater understanding of perhaps others that cannot speak. The book has a very Helen Keller feel to it, complete with Elizabeth's own Anne Sullivan.

What I liked best about the book was the spiritual component, it delivered it perfectly, without hitting you over the head with it. Virginia, like me, believes these kids are here to teach, they are deeply spiritual, wise, and enlightened beings here to help evolve us all to a higher place. I felt this book conveyed that with just the right touch.

To order your copy, or ready more about Virginia and her daughter Elizabeth, go here.

Giving

Rojo is super excited for Santa to come Saturday night, we've been counting down since the minute we put away the Halloween decorations. For the last few rounds of birthdays Rojo has been grabbing one of his beloved "friends" from the top bunk, shoving it into a gift bag, letting the recipient open it, "have" it for some specified amount of time (usually a couple of hours), then asking that they return it.

This year he's decided to take the giving idea and apply it to Christmas, too. He dragged me to Bi-Mart in late November to buy a gift for Elmo. "Elmo wants gummy bears for Christmas." We headed to the Christmas candy aisle and he decided to do all his shopping in that very spot. Within five minutes we'd covered his aunt, Papa, Grandma, Grammy, Woohoo, and STM. He nagged and nagged until I wrapped them, and they were amongst the first packages under our tree.

Yesterday STM called Rojo and asked, "Do you have a present for Mom, or do you need me to take you shopping?"

"No, I've got it, STM, I have Care's present all ready."

Hung up the phone and turned to me, "Care, will you help me wrap your present? But you can't look. You need to be surprised."

I found a big box, he ran upstairs and grabbed the three friends while I held the box open, eyes closed, then he put the lid back on. We went down to the ping pong table in the basement and wrapped it together.

To: Care
From: Rojo

We tied a green ribbon around the red and white polka dot paper, and put it under the tree.

Then the relentless quest to pin down the exact moment I would open it, began, with a fervor. With some amount of doing I managed to put him off for almost 24-hours, agreeing to open it today when Kathleen came by for our annual three-way gift exchange.

Minute that poor woman sat down (before she even got to taste the coffee or eggnog he insisted we have ready for her), he had me opening the gift.

"Never trust the box," he said as I peeled back the paper to reveal a box that said gala apples. When I pulled out friends 1, 2 and 3 nobody was more tickled than he. I think he thought I was genuinely surprised. I think he thought he'd really pulled a major gift-giving coup. I think he thought right.

Winter Solstice

In the beginning was the Tao.

All things issue from it;

all things return to it.

To find the origin,

trace back the manifestations.

When you recognize the children

and find the mother, 

you will be free of sorrow.

If you close your mind in judgments

and traffic with desires,

your heart will be troubled.

If you keep your mind from judging

and aren't led by the senses,

your heart will find peace.

Seeing into darkness is clarity.

Knowing how to yield is strength.

Use your own light

and return to the source of light.

This is called practicing eternity.

- Lao-Tzu

Translated by Stephen Mitchell

* Photo from http://www.earthrites.org

Please join me at Hopeful Parents today. Thanks!

How to Start Your Own Support Group

Bear in mind I have "started" (been in on the ground level, really, didn't technically start), exactly one. This is not a manual, but a what-worked-for-us list.

If you are the parent of a special needs child, you need support. Period. You also need resources and a good group will do both - offer resources and support!

 1. Find 2-3 other people that also have a kid with special needs, even if they aren't the same as your kid's. You know 2-3 more. You just do. If not, ask your doctor, therapist, kid's teacher/principal/counselor, you-name-it.

 2. Meet. Could be a coffee shop (don't recommend that - the walls have ears). Could be one person's house every time (I actually DO recommend this, and I'll tell you why in a minute). Could trade off houses. Pick a time that works for the initial group of people, and stick to that. Others will join the group and suggest times that would better work for them. This is a no-win. You will forever be rearranging your meetings, frustrating everyone, losing consistency, and never finding a perfect time. Don't apologize. "We meet ________ from ________ to ___________." I do tell people that it's fine (and common) that people come late and/or leave early, whatever they need to do.

 3. Key is to meet when the kids aren't around. We meed the 2nd Friday of every month, 9-12 AM. Many of the moms do work. They arrange their schedules around this. I recognize this is not always possible, but you would be impressed with the lengths some of the women in our group go to. We (I) put out the schedule for the whole school year by September 1st, they block that time out and show up.

 4. Establish a strict what-is-said-in-the-room-stays-in-the-room, policy. This is key. If people feel like they can't be free to share, there is no point in having a group. I always e-mail a summary of our meetings and distribute it to the whole group, but never put on there anything personal or specific, just Websites, resources, etc. that were shared at the meeting, maybe even a question that someone in the group that wasn't there, could still answer.

 5. You kind of need one person to take charge, have all the information filter through, and keep everyone on track. A leader will rise. It may or may not be the person that gets the group going.

 6. Take an All Are Welcome approach. If someone comes to the group and wants to bring a friend/neighbor/relative/whatever the next time, always say yes. You can't control the size or formation of the group - this is organic and will take care of itself.

 7. Some people will come once, dump all their problems on you, and never return. This is not unusual. Likewise, some people will come many times before opening their mouths to speak. This is also not un usual, and is to be encouraged. They are feeling out the group, establishing trust and are sure to be invaluable "members" of the group.

 8. Sometimes have a topic and/or guest speaker, sometimes do not. I have found if we are too loosey goosey, or too all-business, it doesn't work.

 9. Each time a new person joins, do NOT go around the room and have everyone tell their whole story again. This will chew up ALL your time and the ones that are faithful and loyal and never miss, have to hear it over and over again. People will catch on. It doesn't matter anyway. You don't need the full story to be a strong support.

10. We have considered, and even tried to start, sub-groups. ADD/ADHD, ASD, Down Syndrome, whatever you may have a lot of people coming for support for. We've never been able to get this off the ground for whatever reason. There is something nice about the group that is "misc." Many of the people in our group ALSO attend specific group meetings, but they always like our group better. It can be pretty depressing when the whole meeting is about the same "different ability" - you hear the extremes and that can overwhelm and freak some people out.

11. Keep the e-mail list blind copied. I JUST started doing this and wish I'd done it years ago. Not everyone needs to see a new name on the list and start to speculate what all is going on in THAT family! If they want to know who else is in the group, they are welcome to come to the meetings.

12. I have found that it is more successful to just have all the meetings at my house every month. I make coffee and move the furniture around, someone almost always offers to bring treats, and if they don't, I open a bag of whatever is in the pantry and call it good. Some people that need the group most, are barely holding it together. If they think that eventually the group will need to meet at THEIR house, they may not even bother joining the group. Just like a natural leader will emerge, so, too, will someone that likes to host things at their house. Trust that this is true. Again, you could always meet somewhere where nobody is the host, but I think it's hard to talk about such personal issues, in a public place.

13. We have twice as many names on the email list, as typically come to a meeting. That does not mean they aren't valuable and contributing. People have posed all kinds of questions to the group, all the way from, "Do you know of a good math tutor?" to "What experiences have you had with Risperdal?" The e-mail responses are helpful and varied.

14. Have someone in the group be the recorder at the meetings (again, this could all be the same person that hosts and organizes, and communicates, but doesn't necessarily need to be). Keep track of all the great resources shared, and create a directory. It took me 7 years to figure that one out. Each time someone needed a good something-or-other, I was forever going back to the group to ask, AGAIN. We now have a many page document with names of acupuncturists, doctors, therapists, books, speech paths, Websites, etc.

15. Try to keep the support on special needs. Invariably "life" will hit people in the group - death, divorce, foreclosure, health issues, all of that. While it's inevitable some of the discussions will also include all that's going on in a family, the group is really gathered for one very specific reason, and needs to stay focused on that.

16. Don't meet in July or August because A) Your kids are home, B) Everyone's schedule is different, and C) It's good to have a break.


* Photo from http://cureanxiety.com

FroYo

Sorry for the lack of posting, just a little thing like CHRISTMAS keeping me from the computer these days. Shop, shop, shop, wrap, wrap, wrap! Was lucky enough to be given a pass to the Nike Employee Store (thanks, Janell!) and went there today to get the last few things I needed. For. Myself. Yes, I am fully shopping for myself this year, too. Really excited about the Mary necklace I bought myself from my friend Candace - the incredible artist/jeweler/Mary lover that she is. Really excited about the cute rain jacket I got at Nike today (not that anyone in Portland, Oregon needs a rain jacket or anything). Really excited about the new dish towels I got. TWO packs. Yep. Come Christmas day at least six of the nasty old ones in the drawer are getting shit canned. I have stacked all my gifts on the ping pong table in the basement with just a little Post-it that says, "To: Mom, From: ?" I'm going to get Woohoo to wrap them all up - no gift bags, either, I want boxes, ribbon and BOWS!

On another note, I think I've failed to tell you all about Rojo's full on addiction to frozen yogurt! You can blame Nancy. She could hardly stand his 3-a-day snow cone habit this summer, full of nothing but sugar and empty calories. She persuaded him to try frozen yogurt, and now, many $$ a week later, I'd say she was successful! Nancy is Rojo's favorite guest to invite to join us, and because she's a trooper, goes at least a couple times a week with us.

Rojo goes through the self-serve section in record breaking time, making a "graveyard" of sorts, with at least a smidge of every flavor offered. Then I sprinkle graham cracker crumbles, Oreo crumbles and 2 gummy worms on top (per his request). Times two. he eats both giant bowls before I finish my modest-sized bowl. It doesn't matter if the temperature outside is 34 degrees. It doesn't matter if we're the only ones in the place, it doesn't matter if dinner is right around the corner, if Rojo had his way, he'd go to the frozen yogurt place every single day and twice on Sundays.

I know Rojo's diet is terrible. Believe me, I know. But every year we inch it towards something "better." I don't have any aspiration of it being "healthy," just "less toxic" would be nice. At least the yogurt has some health benefits which I'm hanging my hat on. It's all relative.

Good for your bones:

• An excellent source of calcium: (Based on 2 servings -8 fl oz) Adequate calcium as part of a healthful diet may reduce the risk of osteoporosis

Good for your tummy:

• Helps maintain a healthy digestive tract
• Increased digestibility for individuals with lactose intolerance

Supports wellness:

• Helps maintain general digestive health and body immunity
• Low Sodium: Diets low in sodium may reduce the risk of high blood pressure, a disease associated with many factors

Promotes a healthy lifestyle:

• Packed probiotics to promote a healthy immune and digestive system
• Low Cholesterol
• Low Sodium

Other great things about YoCream Frozen yogurts:

• All YoCream frozen yogurts are certified by the National Yogurt Association and proudly display the Live & Active Cultures Seal
• All YoCream products are Kosher Certified
• YoCream products are Gluten Free*
• No high fructose corn syrup**