Moving On

Went into Rojo's room two nights ago and there on his mini-trampoline, lying face down, was a framed picture of him at age two. Actually it's one of those frames with places for three pictures, and it captures him in rapid succession being all two - darling. Not a lot to love about him at that age, but I have always loved those three shots, because they remind me that although my memory tells me he was nothing but a pain-in-the-ass, he did have his moments. Three of them are captured for all eternity.

When I asked Rojo why he took the frame off the wall, he just said, "I didn't want it up there anymore." I took it down to live in the basement with all the other things we have framed and don't want on the walls anymore.

Yesterday I walked into his room and all but two of the framed pictures of himself that have been on his dresser for years, were turned towards the wall. The two that remained facing forward, was a darling picture of his godparents, Tom and Nancy, and a Bible verse my mom gave him when he got baptized in April. The ones now facing the wall were all of him as a baby or toddler. I turned them around again, just to see what he'd do. Sure enough, went in his room this morning and those same ones were turned towards the wall again.

I asked him, "Why do you keep turning the pictures of you around?"

"I'm sick to death of them," he said.

In all these years he's never said boo about what he wants his room to look like, what he wants on the walls, what kind of comforter cover he wants, what color the walls should be, the arrangement of the furniture, nothing. It's as though he's now looking around his space with different eyes, teenage eyes, growing up eyes, moving on eyes. And with tears in mine, I took all the smaller pictures down to the basement, too, and closed that door.

Holiday Induced ADHD

I have four blog posts started, and none of them are going anywhere. Started telling you about the dream I had last night where someone was asking for specific books on my bookshelf, and I was handing them over, and had some vague connection/realization that I do that a lot - just hand over whatever anyone asks for. Didn't finish that one because I got distracted.

Started telling you about all the gifts I am going to give myself this year, both "actual" gifts (exciting things like new kitchen towels), and "true" gifts, like permission to half-ass the Christmas shopping/wrapping/etc. Didn't finish that one because I got distracted.

Started telling you about how Woohoo asked that for Christmas this year, I "do my magic" on her bedroom, purge, purge, purge, "Just make it go away!" Didn't finish that one because I got distracted.

Started telling you that I think we're going to break down and get Rojo an iPad for Christmas for many, many reasons, not the least of which is the fact he sends approximately 2,000,000 texts a day and the poor people that get them and respond need a flippin' break. (Thank you Tom, Nancy, Kathleen, Aunt Julie, Meghan, Laurie, Ann, Jenn and many, many more.) Didn't finish that one because I got distracted.

Was going to ask you for your recommendations on must-have apps for said iPad, in fact, I'll just do that now before I get distracted. What are the must-have apps for an iPad? I want to load it up so it's good to go when he opens it.

Can't really finish this post, either, something else just caught my attention...

What's New Around Here

I am playing catch-up today after five L-O-N-G days with Rojo. I swear with every inch he grows, he gets one notch louder. His voice is changing, he's taller than me now, and has the "gift" my side of the family has, with a voice that really carries. It's impossible to find a place in our home where you can forget he's also in the home. Impossible.

Oh, and did I tell you STM wants to get a motor home after Woohoo goes off to college, so STM, Rojo, Flicka and I can travel together in a space smaller than our kitchen? Days on end in close quarters? "Ideally" with two TVs, so the boys can each watch their shows and I guess I'll be somewhere with earplugs AND headphones, and a giant Margarita? I have convinced STM that the first thing to do is rent one for a week and see how we all do. I'm taking bets now on who calls "uncle" first. I doubt we'll make it past the city limits.

Woohoo got into the university she was hoping to get into! WOOHOO for Woohoo! She has her colleges narrowed down to two, and they are apples and oranges. I am trying (rather unsuccessfully) to not sway her with my strong preference of one over the other, even though the "other" is where I went to college. Not a thing in the world wrong with that university, I just don't see how it would be the right fit for Woohoo. Actually "sway" is not the right word, I'm trying to not drive her so crazy that she picks the other one just to spite me.

I am pretty much living on pumpkin pie with aerosol whip cream and eggnog lattes. Every year I tell myself I'm not going to succumb, and every year I do. It's about a one-month thing that I am simply powerless over. If eggnog were available year-round I wouldn't touch it. It's my November-December "thing."

We continued our tradition of going out the day after Thanksgiving (I refuse to call it Black Friday, what TFBS), and cutting down our Christmas tree. I'm happy to report that our house is fragrant with the scent of a Shasta fir, and the stockings have been hung by the chimney with care. Our Christmas dishes are out and being used, and they make me happy. My pumpkin pie is extra yummy served on them.

STM and I had a "crisis" when the DVR was out of new things to watch and On Demand was down. We actually watched last week's "Modern Family" again, because we'd laughed so much the first time. Happy to report we laughed just as hard, or harder, the second time. That's the first show to come along since "Seinfeld," that really makes me giggle. My favorite is Cam, I belly laugh at every word and gesture from him. In fact, I'm having a chuckle right now just thinking of Cam. Cam. Cam. Funny, funny Cam!

We are going to see Santa next week, and Rojo is going to ask him for a little stuffed bear to replace Max, the one with a broken nose that I tried to fix, but to no avail. Let's hope Santa can put his hands on a new Max, because it can't be sort of like Max, it needs to be Max, but with a perfect nose.

So, some big things, some little things, your basic life.

Back By Popular Demand

I wrote these YEARS ago, way before I even had a blog, and shared them with some friends. They continue to ask for them, so here they are (and they remain as true as they did then):

TOP 10 THINGS LIKELY TO BE SAID BY STM'S MOM ON THANKSGIVING:

10. The newspaper today was as thick as the Sunday paper with all those ads.

 9.  I think while all of those people are out shopping tomorrow, I'll just enjoy staying home.

 8. That button on the turkey already popped, and it can't possibly be done.

 7.  My mother used to serve creamed onions every year, and she was the only one that ate them.

 6.  I hope you all brought your Tupperware, there are going to be lots of leftovers!

 5.  The stores are all decorated for Christmas already!

 4.  That's enough salt, Papa!

 3.  This time we're having real butter.

 2.  I'm so full I couldn't eat another bite.

 1.  Who's ready for pie?

TOP 10 THINGS LIKELY TO BE SAID BY CARRIE'S MOM ON THANKSGIVING:

10.  Who thinks the new mayor is a closeted alcoholic?

 9.  What is going on with all these math labs? Do you realize the long-term implications of this epidemic?

 8.  There is a real spiritual deficit in this country. Did you know that Macy's won't even let their employees say, "Merry Christmas" now? They have to say, "Happy holidays."

 7.  Everywhere I go now there are these gambling places disguised as coffee shops. I thought we were keeping all this gambling within the Indian reservations to create jobs and help these poor people make something of their lives.

 6.  I am calling the cable company on Monday and canceling my subscription. Have you sen the rates?They just keep going up, while the quality of programming just keeps going down.

 5.  Who wants to call _______________ and wish them a happy Thanksgiving? I'm sure they are lonely and thinking of all of us while they are in rehab.

 4.  I can never eat enough to make it worth all the trouble of cooking a big Thanksgiving meal. Even if I could, who can enjoy eating knowing that one third of the world goes to bed hungry every night.

 3.  Oh, no salt for me! You know I have terrible blood pressure! I never salt anything, I haven't for years! Of course, I do love my chips!

 2.  I'm so full I can't eat another bite.

 1. I'm ready for pie!

THAT College

Lots of talk of college in our house these days. Every month or so Rojo reminds me, "You know, I'm not going to college." Just yesterday we were standing in the kitchen and he looked up on the wall where my favorite Corita Kent print is hung, and said, "THAT's the college I'm going to. I'm going to live here with you, and go to the 'Each child is special give lots of love college.'"

He'll graduate summa cum-laude, I haven't a doubt.

I'm writing about blue twos at Hopeful Parents today - won't you join me? Thanks!

Word Choice

I'm on a bit of a rampage, and we all just love a good rant, right? No? Just me?

A friend of mine called last week and was telling me how now that her son is seventeen, she needs to get crackin' with a case worker and start the arduous task of setting things up like Medicaid, transitional services, and SSI. These are things that are in our future, too, but I am letting my blinders stay on until Rojo turns sixteen, maybe seventeen, before crossing those bridges I don't want to cross.

When this friend finally got someone helpful on the phone (can you imagine the extent to which my phone phobia will flare up when I have to do this?), the kind woman on the other end asked, "What is his current eligibility?" My friend gave the initials that bring a tear to her eye and a choke to her throat each time, "M.R."

"Well, we aren't going to use that term," she said, "We'll use Developmentally Disabled."

Later, I was sharing all this with another friend of mine that has closely walked my story with me, and who is the aunt of a fifteen-year-old with Down Syndrome. "I like Intellectual Disability," she said kindly enough. At which point I bit her head off.

"I DON'T!" I said. "It's just another way of saying, 'not smart.' It's focused entirely on what we think of as intelligent, and doesn't tell us anything about the other intelligences the person may have."

I then proceeded to blast her with a long litany of people I know with high SAT scores, impressive graduate degrees, and by all standard measures are "intelligent," and frankly, make some of the most piss-poor decisions I've ever heard of in my life.

At Rojo's school they use the term "learning differences" rather than "learning disabilities." I love this, because that's just exactly what they are, differences. Rojo still can't tie his shoes - probably never will, but that boy is a wiz on his phone and computer. Nobody taught him. He innately knew how to make them do what he wanted them to do. Technology makes sense to him. It works in a way his brain can get itself wrapped around.

Rojo has a spiritual intelligence I've never seen in another person. Ever. I see plenty of "smart" people striving to attain a state of mental health and peace that he effortlessly just has.

I don't know, maybe when it's time for me to make that call I'll give them his "true" diagnosis of PDD-NOS, but maybe I'll just see what happens when I say he has "intellectual differences."


Photo from http://www.iqtestexperts.com

The A Dar Never Vacations

When STM and I were on vacation, we kept spotting the same family. They often ended up eating breakfast next to us, walking on the path next to us, you get the idea. Right away my A-dar went up when I saw their little girl, who was about six or seven. I can't even put my finger on it, it was just "something" about where her gaze was, how repetitive she was in what she said, "Mom is sitting here," "Don't sit there, Mom is sitting there, "Mom is sitting there," "That's where Mom will sit," etc.

The father finally said, "I know, you've told me repeatedly." He didn't sound mad, he didn't sound super annoyed (I was), he sounded resigned. Then I watched the same father go to the buffet and bring her back a plate of all white food: toast, rice, banana. That sealed the deal.

I saw the exhausted looking mom. I saw the exhausted looking dad. I saw the game-for-anything grandparents they'd brought along to help with the kids. I saw the older, typical brother. I saw the old me that would have tried to make a trip like that work (and did just such a thing when we took everyone, STM's parents included, to Disneyland when Rojo was that age). I saw the strain between the parents, despite the fact that they were "on vacation." I saw their future. I saw their past.

I didn't say a word to them.

I remember in the earlier years when someone thought they had a kid like Rojo, and they'd tell me their story, and pass along their words of wisdom. I found it presumptuous. I found it putting the cart before the horse - they were trying to give me input I was not ready to have. I found it hard to shake their words loose from my brain, and some lived to haunt me.

I also know they were doing it out of kindness, that they recognized something in him, in me, in us that resonated with them, and they wanted to connect from that place, but that is just not a place everyone necessarily wants to connect.

So, although the A-dar never takes a vacation, my tendency to "help," must.





Photo from: www.letschatautism.com

$180 Richer

We found the retainers! Rojo put on a sweatshirt today and there in the pocket were BOTH of them!

Thank you, St. Anthony!

Thank you, Don Wilson!

Thank you, concerned readers! I just KNOW none of us had any bigger fish to fry than this! : )

A Vacation Was Had by One and All

Okay, I finally have my caffeine-induced wits about me enough to tell you about our AWESOME vacation! Here's the thing about vacations - they're a good thing to take! Note to self: take one with spouse more than every 10 years. We went to Vegas for 3 days for our 10th anniversary, have had a night or two here and there since then, but have not been away for a whole week alone, for 18+ years. (Nine months exactly before Woohoo was born. Just sayin'.)

It's just a really nice thing to go away and remember why you ever thought getting married was such a hot idea to begin with. Thing is, I like STM. My love for him has never been in question, but it was really nice to just enjoy the heck out of his company. I know I'm preaching to the choir here, but once you have kids, it's so hard to keep the focus from totally being on them, and then throw a special need or two (or 12) in there, and well, it's easy to become co-parents of a special needs child, and not much else.

Everyone keeps asking us what we did when we were in Maui. Here's the answer: a whole lot of nothing. We didn't go to "do," we went to "be." And "be" we did. We "be'd" at the beach, at the pool, on our balcony, on long walks and leisurely breakfasts. We did golf once (he golfed, I rode in the cart for an extra $35). We took nice drives around the island, did explore the other towns both near and far, but most of the time we just hung out.

STM read the Steve Jobs book cover-to-cover (it's a monster), and I read three paperbacks that were all wonderful. (Shanghai Girls, Secret Daughter, The Miracles of Prato. Put all three on your To Read list, and don't forget The Blood of Flowers, too.)

We slept 9 hours each night. We awoke before daybreak, got our coffee and sat on our balcony watching the sun come up. We had our beer and/or wine each evening at sunset and watched the glory of that. In a nutshell: pure heaven.

And the kids. The kids had a ball without us. Woohoo said, "No stress for a full week." Nobody asking her if she did this or that, nobody nagging. Somebody cooking sumptuous meals for her each night. Someone that let her take over our master bedroom and make it her own for a week. Someone that said, "Sure!" to whatever it was she wanted to do.

Rojo was blissed out, too. We only talked to him once for 2 seconds and had a couple of texts. He was too busy keeping our friend, liz, (you can call her the liz, but you can't capitalize her name) hopping. He had her going out for frozen yogurt, playing basketball in the living room while she played YouTube videos on her laptop to provide the appropriate accompanying music, listening to him play and sing church songs on the piano or keyboard, or just having "conversations."

When we got home it was 9:00 PM and we thought he was asleep. When we went up to check on him he was SOBBING in his bed. "Rojo, what's wrong?"

"This is liz's last day!" he said through his cracking, crying, voice.

I settled him down, went back to say goodbye to liz (and tell her how sad he was she was leaving), and when I went back he was crying even more - up out of his bed, pacing around the room frantically, in a total frenzy. "My heart is BROKEN," he said. "I have a sad life!"

Of course this tore me up inside and I couldn't sleep a wink that night, even after I saw he'd settled down and was sleeping peacefully. The next morning we discovered liz had left her cell phone charger at our house, so we dropped it off after school. Rojo didn't even want to get out of the car, I made him, he said his hello and goodbye and then was in a big hurry to get home and to the school yard before it got dark.

liz e-mailed me the next day, "If you're not lucky enough to be in the Rojo circle, you will never get why it makes total sense that he was crying his eyes out last night because I was leaving, but had absolutely no time for me today!" Exactly! Nothing personal! You were here, I was sad you left. I processed all that. I'm over it. No baggage. No attachment. In the present.

liz also wrote, "Oh, my hell of God... Rojo and I are even more solidly connected than before. I want everyone to love me the way he does... deeply, no strings... no agenda. Thanks for the opportunity to be with someone who touches my soul in a way that no one else ever could."

Thank you liz for being the perfect person to make it all possible. Rest up, Hawaii 2013 is already in the works (my 50th)!

Top 10 Things I've Found While Looking for Rojo's Retainers

We had a GREAT vacation (more on that in another post). The kids did great (more on that in another post), the house looked great (more on that in another post), fun was had by all (more on that in another post). Only "casualty" of the time away was one set of retainers. They went all Don Wilson on us. Vanished. Thin air. Were right there and now they simply aren't. I know they'll turn up, but now the clock is ticking and I do NOT want Rojo's teeth to move while we wait for Don Wilson to return the damn things to where he found them. This could take months (and usually does).

So, I've turned the house UPSIDE DOWN looking for them (they are $180 to replace, not something I feel like forking money over for right now, or ever, actually). Have NOT found the retainers, but I have found these...

10. 29 bobby pins

 9.  Rojo's sunglasses he lost in July (which I did replace, so now he has a back up pair for next July, roughly the next time he'll need them around here)

 8. Nine of Flicka's "chews"

 7. Balled up Kleenex

 6. Screw thingies from a drawer that broke ages ago

 5.  Dust bunnies too numerable to count

 4. An empty Gatorade bottle

 3. An empty something else, not-quite-sure-what bottle

 2. My 5 lb. weights I've been wondering about

 1. Candy wrappers

All Souls

Running last minute errands this morning before we take off tomorrow morning for Hawaii, and had the radio on KBVM (K-Blessed Virgin Mary), which I've listened to on and off for years. Love the music. Like some of the discussions. Do NOT like some of the discussions. You can take the girl out of the Protestant religion, but you can't take the Protestant religion out of the girl.

Topic turned to Halloween, which precedes All Saints' Day, and then All Souls' Day. The woman on the radio urged us to be praying for all the souls in purgatory. I snapped that radio off so fast it would have made your head spin - did not want to hear one WORD about purgatory, a concept I have always struggled with.

Got to thinking, anything that made me react with that amount of energy, probably needed to be looked at a little more closely. Clicked it back on. Because there are no accidents, the whole conversation was about people's struggle to understand purgatory.

I'm not pretending I understand it any better, but it did get my wheels turning. I, personally, don't believe there is a heaven "up there," or a hell "down there," I believe that they are states of mind, and there are those who have figured out how to achieve heaven on earth, and those for whom this alludes. It then stands to reason that there is an in between, too, a place of purification, a place of struggle, and mental anguish. Doesn't that sound a lot like life? Or at least periods in our life? Is it possible that we experience heaven, hell and purgatory over and over and over again, sometimes concurrently?

The Buddhists believe in Samsara - a cycle of birth and rebirth, until one finally breaks free through enlightenment and transcends the cycle to a state of Nirvana. I like this concept, or maybe just the words sit better with me. I like the notion of "transcending," of breaking free from a cycle, be it lifetime after lifetime or just what feels like it, the issues we have that seem to haunt us and feel so old and ingrained we grow weary and doubtful we will ever transcend them.

On this All Souls; Day (Wednesday), I will light a candle for just that - all souls. May we all transcend. May we all move from a place of mental anguish and struggle. May we all "find" heaven.

Amen.


 * Photo from http://blissfullydomestic.com

Top 10 Signs I Need a Vacation

10. I am virtually incapable of speaking intelligibly - even STM says, "Never mind, I know what you mean."

9. I needed to return something, put it in a box, closed it up, realized I had not put the paper work inside, opened it up. Closed it. Realized I had not put the paper work inside. Opened it. Closed it. THREE times!

8. Started packing two weeks ago.

7. Finding new ways to drive my loved ones crazy by micro-managing their lives.

6. Got super annoyed when someone took a bite of something that was "mine" in the fridge.

5. Can't be bothered letting Flicka sniff on our walks, must be marching forward at all times!

4. Until this moment, totally "blogstipated."

3. Totally becoming a hypochondriac.

2. Looking for things to worry about.

1. Forgetting to be grateful.



 * Photo from www.gohawaii.com

Blogcation

Didn't intend to start my blogcation until next week, when I will be sunning myself with STM on the beaches of MAUI, but I guess my fingers knew I needed a little extra time off. Just not a whole lot going on to report on, and that is a good thing. My resolution for 2011 was: boredom. While 2011 has been anything but, I am enjoying a nice little lull now, and let me tell you, it feels good.

Can't get enough of this:

And can't stop reading this:

And every now and then I pop up to use one of these babies, on a light fixture that hasn't seen the likes of it for oh, say, five to six years:

Did have an IEP meeting for Rojo at his new school, and this time he had to go, too. Just going into the basement and pulling out that box set off a PTSD episode, and I was dreading the whole thing something fierce. Here's the thing: it was great. They've found a way to tap into services through the school district this school is in (different district than we've dealt with for 15 years), and they will come to HIM, during school, and teach social skills! They are calling it "social cognition," which I am too busy drinking tea and reading my good book to Google and learn more about, but they both sound like good words, and coupled, they must be twice as good, right?

My tea is getting cold and this book isn't going to finish itself, so until later, TTFN!

Helicopter Parents

I don't know if I'd be a helicopter parent if I weren't a parent to a child that requires I be so (probably), but I do know I am, and I do know the minute I turn down the vigilance, things fall apart. Meds are not taken. Things are not brought to school that need to be, glasses are not worn, underwear is not changed, etc.

We have been highly involved in Woohoo and Rojo's schools, always. Auction chairs, coached sports, sat on numerous boards, organized/pushed for new programs, blah, blah, blah, so naturally, I was at the open house the high school held on Sunday, to help answer questions prospective parents might have about the program Rojo is in.

Ran into one of Woohoo's favorite teachers and was chatting it up. Learned Woohoo is pushing it a little on the dress code. Nothing major, hasn't been written up, but still, pushing it. All totally within the realms of normal teenage behavior, and we are not concerned, however, we did mention it to her. Her boyfriend happened to be over at the time. (What were the chances? Answer: high!) She wanted to know how we knew and when we answered, "Our spies told us," he said, "I'm so glad my parents aren't involved."

He wasn't been funny or ironic, wasn't going for a laugh, totally 100% serious. You could see the genuine gratitude he had for the way his parents have parented.

I am definitely less helicopter-y with Woohoo, but I do my fair share of hovering over her, too. It's a chicken/egg kind of thing - I'll never know which came first, the tendency or the need. Guess I don't even need to know - just touch it all with gentle awareness and see from where it all comes - love.


Photo from http://www.jetplanephoto.com

Spirit Week

It's homecoming week at Woohoo and Rojo's school, and that means another spirit week. Rojo lives for spirit week(s), and fortunately for him, they are a plenty in his high school. This is already the second "round."

Monday was OSU/UO day, which was a no brainer for him (I actually hate that expression, don't know why I used it). He has a surplus of both OSU and UO T-shirts. The only bet was on which team he'd represent, since truly he's a "platypus" as we call them around here, half and half with parents from each of the rival colleges, and a fan of both, enemy of neither. He picked UO. No telling what pushed him in that direction.

Tuesday was Celebrity Day. I don't think he knows the meaning of the word "celebrity," and certainly is not impressed by anyone that calls themselves a celebrity. I suggested we skip the day, as they are optional, anyway. "No, he said, I know who I'll be. I'll be Wayne Newton."

You could have knocked me over with a feather. WAYNE NEWTON? Where in the world did he come up with THAT one??? I refused to kill myself trying to come up with a Wayne Newton costume in less than 12 hours, so I blew the whole thing off and thought it would just go away. Tuesday morning he came at me with a Sharpie and Scotch tape and wanted me to write, "Hi, I'm Wayne Newton" on the tape and put it on his T-shirt. Naturally, I did. Naturally, that made him Wayne Newton. Naturally, it worked for everyone else, too.

Today is Red and Blue Day (school colors). Rojo is also "singing" with the choir at the Homecoming Mass, so he'll be wearing a red polo shirt with his black choir pants. I will be probably the only parent at the school Mass because I probably have the only high schooler that begged his mother to come and "watch" him sing. If he moves his lips even a little, it will be well worth it.

Thursday is Twin Day and he has worked it all out with one of his peer tutors to be twins. I think they are just wearing their T-shirts that have their high school's name on them. (Nothing could be more made than (most) boys and their lack of effort/attention/freak out they put into what they wear.)

Friday is Color Day - each class has a color, freshman are orange. He'll be wearing... yes, that's right, an orange T-shirt!

It's the 18th of the month, and you know what that means, it means I'm at Hopeful Parents today. See you over there!

My Right Arm

There have been times in my life when all I wanted or needed to be happy, was to have my children be happy. As a friend of mine always says, "You're only as happy as your unhappiest child." So true. Right now I have two happy children. I am happy. And so, so grateful. Our village is vast and powerful, and I give it much of the credit for our collective happiness.

When Anxiety tries to get me to worry about what's "next" for Rojo after high school, I only need to look around at his ever-expanding village, and realize, it's not all up to me. In fact, "next" is already under construction. I don't know how it will look, but I know that something good is coming!

We took Rojo to the football game on Thursday night (no school Friday). We've been taking him to all the home games since Woohoo was a freshman. He likes to "direct" the band. The band has come to count on it, and some of the horn players are even able to continue playing through their smiling mouths. On Thursday we told Rojo he needed to stop hanging out with us, and go see his friends in the student section. He did. It was awkward. It was painful. It wasn't all that successful, but he did it. We watched as he tried to enter existing circles of conversation and one group after another patiently at worst, and delightedly, at best, spoke to him until he moved on to the next circle.

On the way home in the car he piped up with, "I love my life. I love my friends. I love my school. I just love my life."

I can think of at least ten moms I know that would give their right arm to hear their kid(s) say that.

That's so much more than "enough," that's everything.

Amen.

Chinese Medicine

So, went to the acupuncturist and got the very abbreviated background on the rudiments of Chinese medicine. Learned a little about the way wood, fire, earth, water and metal are represented in our bodies, and how Chinese medicine is a way to bring harmony to the flow between them (not even sure I have that right, but something like that).

Anyhoo, my Fire and Metal are not happy. Also, there's the dietary thing. Turns out my main two categories of food, gluten and dairy, are both big no nos for me. As I've said here before, I knew dairy was not working for me, and so have really worked hard to eliminate it. Since it didn't do a lot to clear up my issues, I suspected gluten may also be a problem. It is. She wants me off both completely. Of course I am kicking and screaming and throwing a big pity party - and you're invited! I'll do it, but I'm going to complain for (quite) awhile. It is fair to say that everything I enjoy eating has gluten and/or dairy, and everything I don't, doesn't.

Guess it's time to learn to cook.

What happened when I had the acupuncture treatment, is I did deeply relax and had all kinds of wild visions/dreams in just 15 minutes. Then, what I also experienced but didn't count on, was a much keener focus. I did not ping from thing to thing to thing, task to task to task, I was actually able to calmly complete one thing (like bringing in a car load of groceries and putting them away), before moving on to the next (like emptying the dishwasher and reloading it). May not sound like much, but it felt so different (and good) that I'm a believer.




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

A Big Day

Yesterday was a big day around here. First of all, I took Rojo into the DMV to get an ID card. He is fifteen, and it's time to have official identification for whatever/whenever he needs it. I just sort of sprung it on him that we were doing this after school, and miraculously, he fully cooperated. I think most people assumed the DMV was closed on Columbus Day, so the crowd was thin and the wait blessedly short. He is fully IDd, now, all 5'6" 92 lbs. of him.

Then, Woohoo submitted her college application that has kept me up nights for months (needlessly, but nonetheless). Any of you wanting to light the Marys for that one, would sure be appreciated. Our hope and prayer is that she's accepted to this school - her first choice and ours, too. We think it is a good fit for her and one in which she can be successful. (The school has a radio station there dedicated to the Blessed Virgin Mary. Just sayin'.)

Last, but not least, heard back from my agent last night that she likes all the changes I made to the book, and she's ready to go "out" with it. Again, light the Marys! A bestseller would be nice, but we really just want to the book to "do" whatever it is it is meant to do in the universe. Let it be.

love.

Acupuncture

Tomorrow I am seeing an acupuncturist for the very first time. I'm excited. I can't wait to have her place needles wherever it is she places needles, and let them do their thing. I have heard it's very effective in treating anxiety, and that is music to my soon-to-have-needles-all-over-them-ears.

In the meantime, I am trying to be mindful of my breath and saying to myself, "With this breath I calm my body..." that is helpful. So is my favorite anxiety cure: distraction. I have decided that today is the day I need to create a directory for the support group I facilitate. Imagine the possibilities of six or even seven years worth of saved e-mails listing various naturopaths, speech paths, occupational therapists, neuropsychs, psychologists, psychiatrists, play therapists, social skills therapists, you-name-it. I can finally make a comprehensive list of who we have all used and liked and stop re-creating the wheel every time someone asks me, "Do you know someone that...." which is a question I get a lot.

Had a conversation with a fellow anxiety "sufferer" today. There are some pros to having anxiety, most of us "high strung" individuals do get a shit load of stuff done in a day - so hard is it for us to do "nothing." We find things to do that don't always need doing. Sometimes, in fact, they require un-doing because not only did they not need to be done, they shouldn't have been done.

STM is famous for looking at people like me and saying, "You're not watching enough TV." Let's just say he does watch enough. He works like a dog when it's time to work, and he rests (like an old dog) when it's time to rest. A lesson I have failed to learn despite his many attempts.

We do have an awful lot of good bad TV stored on our DVR, perhaps tomorrow after acupuncture... can't talk now, gotta go put that on the To Do list.








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

College

It is October 7th and on my desk is a huge pile of stuff for Woohoo's graduation in eight months, and that's not just because I'm neurotic.

By October 18th we need to submit our order for all things graduation related: cap and gown, announcements. There are senior pictures to select for the yearbook, and we need to dig out the baby pictures and pick one of those, too. College Night was last night, and now is the time to get all the recommendations in, finish up that essay, submit applications left and right, visit colleges, etc...

One of my oldest and dearest friends, Ruth, has a daughter just a year older than Woohoo. She said last December to me, and I've thought of this a million times, "Just call me next year and scream - I'll know it's you."

AHHHHHHH!!!

First of all, there are the 1,001 details that all need to get done really soon, not to mention the fact we have to figure out how we're even going to pay for college, but how is it possible that I my little girl is going off to college in ten months? HOW? I'm still driving the same car that took her to preschool, doesn't that automatically make her little? Will that car, indeed, drive her off to college? Probably. Where have the years gone?

Between a part-time job, a boyfriend, three AP classes and all this college stuff, she is BUSY. Already we hardly see her, which I guess is part of the natural order of things - by the time she actually leaves, it will be less dramatic, less painful, less upsetting, but nonetheless, just as poignant.

Adding to the poignancy is the fact that we're only doing this once. Rojo will not be taking and retaking the SATs and the ACTs. He will not be filling out applications. He will not need a roommate and a meal plan. We know, as we pass through this milestone year, it will be the only time that we do.

And that is the good news, because my old friend Anxiety, cannot do this twice.

And that is the bad news, because my old friend, Anxiety, is stressing already about What's Next for Rojo Instead.

Had our support group meeting at my house this morning. We talked about how we all struggle to enjoy the highs, fearing the lows. When things are even with our kids, when they are happy, in the right schools, have friends, healthy in all ways, we spend that time worrying about when they aren't, instead of celebrating that they are.

Woohoo is going off to college in less than a year. That is to be celebrated. Although it feels like everyone I know has kids that are in college or college bound, I have to remember that that is not the real world. It is a privilege and an honor to be headed to college, not the norm.

So, instead of screaming, instead of complaining, instead of worrying, instead of every other lower vibrational emotion or reaction, I am going to count my many blessings, not the least of which is I have a daughter that will be ready for college and gets to go.

Photo from http://blog.syracuse.com/college

This One Goes Out to the Ones I Love

Just sent my agent my manuscript. "Just" as in 2 seconds ago. It's off my desk and on its electronic way to being on hers. That makes me happy. That makes me freaked out. That makes me insecure. That makes my IBS and racing heart go nuts (TMI?). That makes me feel accomplished. That makes me feel like a giant fraud - like I think I can pull off writing a book, ha! That makes me excited for everyone in the whole entire world to one day read it. That makes me want to DIE if anyone at ALL ever considers reading it!

Your basic head case.

After YEARS of having this book rattle around in my brain and make me all but pre-occupied and unable to do anything else, I FINALLY decided it just needed to get "out." However "out" turns out to be. If nothing else, it tells the story of our little family and the transformations in all of us as a result of the wisdom born of having Plan A turn into Plan B. At least from my perspective. Someday my grandchildren can dig it out of a box in the basement and argue over who gets stuck with it.

Rosie Thomas' song, "The One I Love," is in my ears and on my brain, both on a loop. This, ultimately, is my greatest wish for the book, my greatest hope, my greatest prayer. "Let this book go out to the one(s) I love. Mary, carry this book and place it into the hands of whomever needs to read it, for whatever reason (perhaps just to feel better about their own abilities as a writer - Shakespeare, it ain't).

Whatever may be, may be - let it be.

Amen.

My Old Friend

My old friend, anxiety, is back. She is making my arms tingle, my heart race, my stomach churn. She taunts me in my sleep, awakening me in a dead panic at least once a night.

Struggled with anxiety my whole life, came to a peak almost ten years ago, exactly. Started doing the math yesterday (anxiety loves to run numbers), realized it was as I approached 39 that she really went nuts. I am fast approaching 49. She's right on time.

About to say goodbye to another decade and hello to the next one. About to launch my oldest off to college. About to see Rojo's years of formal education wind down, not up. About to move into a different stage with our marriage and parenting, while we will still have one at home (and may always), we will no longer be really "raising" kids.

We have three parents in their 80's, it's only a matter of time until their needs become greater and our roles shift in those relationships, too.

STM is concluding a project he's worked for years on. He will be starting "next."

Although I may need to revisit the idea of medication, I am hoping to avoid that. Scheduled an appointment with the naturopath. Going to try to do this "naturally."

Going to spend more time in meditation and less in my car racing from silly errand to silly errand (i.e. three trips to Safeway in 24 hours).

Going to take more slow walks with the dog - let her sniff to her hearts content and let that time be an opportunity for deep breathing, as opposed to utter exasperation.

Going to drink more herbal tea and less coffee.

Going to stop making lists of what I'm going to do, and just...


be.






 http://vinodnarayan.files.wordpress.com

Home Sweet Home

Well, my perfect get-away took an abrupt U-turn. I ended up with either food poisoning or the stomach flu, but whatever it was, it wasn't pretty. Had to call my mom who had to call a friend that still lived over there, to come bring me supplies. Answering the door to let her in took it out of me for the rest of the day.

Anyway. I'm home now, and feeling much better. I guess it's a good thing I took my time-out-for-illness then, because since I've been home I've:

* Vacuumed approximately 20 lbs. of weightless dog hair

* Taken Woohoo's car through DEQ. Twice. Needed a fuse so they could run the test. Got the fuse. Got back in line. Fun times.

* Done 100 loads of laundry

* Been to Safeway three times, and Trader Joe's once

* Signed up to bring snacks for several different commitments

* Ordered black pants for Rojo so he can perform in the upcoming choir concert

* Watered all the sagging plants inside and out

* Worked the Snack Shack with Rojo

* Taken both kids to the dentist

* Brushed the dog like there's no tomorrow

* Walked the dog twice

* Put 20 other To Dos on the list from all the e-mails I've received since getting home

* Hyperventilated a few times

* Picked up something from Bi-Mart for STM that he needed immediately

* Several other things hardly worthy of mention, but time consuming, nonetheless

It's important to note I've been home just over 24-hours.

To all you working-outside-the-home mothers, I bow to you.

Deeply.

It's Working Already

One thing I harped on repeatedly, while working with Rojo and Woohoo's high school to start a program for kids with learning differences, was the need for peer tutors. "Not just for the special learners, but for the peers themselves," I professed, as though I knew what the hell I was talking about.

I didn't have statistics. I didn't have facts. I had a knowing that what was good for Rojo, would be good for anyone helping Rojo. I guess I did have facts, I had 29 other kids that went through 1-8 grade with him, that I would say, without a doubt, are better for having done so.

So, I talked up peer tutors for years. I knew that Rojo would relish time with someone that was all about him, someone in his age bracket, someone "typical," someone that for a specified amount of time each day, got to leave their "normal" life and immerse themselves in neuro-diversity.

Blessedly, I didn't have much opposition, and a peer tutor program was developed. Rojo loves everything about his school and program, but by far, his favorite thing is the peer tutors.

Friday night STM, Rojo and I went together to the first home football game. Woohoo went too, separately, and spent the evening with her friends, which is all good and the way it should be. We were there about 20 minutes and some kid I'd never laid eyes on before came up to Rojo, plunked himself down, and began to "hang." Finally, I said, "Rojo? Would you please introduce us to your friend?"

Rojo did, and the young man (a senior) shook our hands warmly and firmly, using lots of ma'ams and sirs,  before resuming his spot right next to Rojo on the bleachers. Later, when they were off at the Snack Shack, one of Rojo's teachers walked over to us, looking for Rojo. I explained where he was. "Oh, that's great. You'll love this story," she continued, "I asked all the peer mentors to write me a reflection piece, and that young man said that before this program began, he didn't have any intention of going to college, he thought maybe he'd join the Marines. Now, however, after working with Rojo and his classmates, he's decided what he wants to do with his life is be a special ed. teacher. He's found his calling."

And I can say, without hesitation, that yes, he has.

Happy to Help

We like to go to 5:30 Saturday night Mass. Not (just) because we then have our Sunday mornings free from the hurry up go, go of the rest of the week, but because there's just a different vibe at that Mass. That's the Mass that most of the "holy elders" attend, the ones that go every weekday morning at 8:00. The ones that have been taking communion with and to each other in times of sickness and in health. The ones that have been there and done that since way before that was an expression. The ones that walk with canes, walkers, and each other arm-in-arm. The ones that teach and preach volumes just by showing up. Those ones.

On Saturday night Rojo, STM, Kathleen, her husband, "Romey," (nickname given to him by Rojo) and I were all sitting there together, Rojo's arms flailing around in his usual celebratory way. A friend came over and asked if he'd help at the end of Mass - hold a basket for donations for a second collection, to our sister parish, a parish in need.

I thought for sure Rojo would say no. He says no to 100% of everything. He is, much like his father, a buck, buck, buck embracer. They say no just to say no, even when "yes" behooves them. Don't get me started. Anyway... thought for sure he'd say no, but he looked at her and said, "I'd be happy help you!"

I looked at him incredulously and he said, point blank, "Glory to God, always."

Always.

Amen.

The Sound of Silence

The tradition has always been that after we're about three weeks into the school year, I go to Sisters, alone, and celebrate the fact that Rojo doesn't have a mark on 'em. I take my journals (dream and otherwise), spiritual readings, ear plugs and sleep eye shade thingy, walking shoes and computer, and de-stim. After three months home with Rojo, the various ice cream truck songs and cell phone ring tones being hummed, sung, kicked and tapped non-stop, it's what I do so that I can keep on doing it.

Because last year we sold the house my mom had in Sisters, I didn't know what I was going to do to keep the tradition alive, and thus, my sanity, and thus, Rojo. My cousin Julie graciously offered me the use of their vacation home, and I very nearly took her up on it (and will in the future). But I don't just need the time away, I need time away in this part of the world - the place where I am most able to hear and feel the comfort of Mary/God/Spirit/myself.

Checked into the possibility of a hotel - way too expensive and would have to have all my meals out (too much bother and too much money). Did a little looking on the Internet and found a super bargain house, now that it's off-season, in the same development in which we had our house. STM thought that was weird, but I know myself. I don't need novelty. I don't need adventure. I need, especially at this moment, the least amount of decision making, the least amount of new and different. I need everything to come down about 10 notches in my brain, and here is the place on Earth where that is possible for me.

I wish I could capture the smell of the air here, and let you have a sniff. It would heal you in a place you need healing - I promise. I have the windows open now, a warm sweatshirt on, and am just reveling in the smell. And the silence. Not enough can be made of the silence. With the windows open I can hear the birds, and in the far distance, the highway (which I pretend is a waterfall - it works). So quiet, in fact, that the battery operated clock on the wall was driving me CRAZY with its incessant ticking. Yanked that battery right out.

Got here yesterday, late afternoon. Went on a walk soon as I got things put away. Had to see my favorite tree on Earth. The tree that reminds me that no matter how far off course I get, or how long it takes me to get wherever it is I think I want to go, things have a way of straightening themselves out. That, and nature corrects.

Can't talk now. Must go sit on the deck and breathe deeply.

40 Days and Counting

Just spent the last several hours:

* Putting one million dates on the August-August calendar for each of the kids' activities for the year

* Answering one million e-mails

* Generating one million e-mails

* Finding my desk under all the paperwork that's been gathering from church, school, mail, notes to myself, assorted To Do lists, etc...

* Buying/replacing all the things Rojo has grown out of, lost or broken since school started

* Being grateful I have the luxury of doing all these things during the day, and not after work, like so many people I know

* Counting how many days remain until STM and I fly off to celebrate 20 years of wedded bliss


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

Finding a New Routine

Dear Blog,

I'm sorry I've been neglecting you as of late, you see, it goes a little something like this: We have out-of-town guests staying with us, and my routine is thrown off. Plus, Kathleen and I have started walking in the afternoons when she gets off work, before I have to go get Rojo from school, and that has, what's that you say? thrown my routine off. Back-to-school has... drumroll... thrown my routine off. STM was doing Cycle Oregon all last week and that, well, as a matter of fact, yes, that has thrown my routine off. Had one over the summer, and am now looking for a new one.

The guests are great - two sisters that are STM's first cousins, travelled all the way from Ohio and Indiana just to spend time with STM's family (and us). Lovely. It's kind of like having two extra Carries in the house, which obviously, is a good thing.

Things continue to go really well for Rojo in his new school and new program. I'm knocking on wood pretty much 24/7 because everything is so great. I well up with tears of gratitude several times a day. Seriously. The communication between Rojo's teachers and me is excellent. No "housekeeping" issue too mundane for them to take seriously. Had a little tiny hiccup in choir as Rojo doesn't read music, has never sung WITH people before, and pretty much doesn't have a single solitary clue what's going on in there. Within 24-hours of the hiccup being identified, a solution was in place. Let me just say this, not only a solution, but divine intervention. The vice-principal found a senior that happened to have a free period when Rojo is in choir, and could serve as a peer tutor. He happens to have had choir before. He just so happens to have a middle school-aged brother on the spectrum and gets it. Oh, and he was already thinking he'd like to get involved in new program somehow - lend his help. Say it with me...

Woohoo continues to own the place as a senior, and is kicking ass all over the place. Most days she takes Rojo to school and many days she's able to bring him home, too. Sometimes she drags him with her to run her various errands, or attend something after school, etc. The other day they didn't get home until 4:15. She looked like something the cat dragged in. Grabbing a snack she says, "I'm out. I'm going in my room and not emerging. Taking Rojo to the mall really did me in."

No comment.

We've done all we can to separate her life/needs from his, let her have her life independently. I see this as a big transition year for her - for one year and one year only, they'll go to the same school, she will be his big sister in a way she hasn't been before, by design. She is assuming greater independence and at the same time, more responsibility. I think it's a good thing to prepare her for college/life. At least that's what I tell myself.

So, things are well here, blog, better than well... blessed.

More soon,
Carrie


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

Please join me at Hopeful Parents today! Thanks!

No Soliciting

Doorbell rang last night just as I was trying to put Rojo to bed. Already dark outside, porch light was not on, nothing about our house said, "We are interested in buying what you're selling."

Flicka barked and ran for the door (only time she ever barks is when the doorbell rings). Rojo and Woohoo beat me to the door, and by the time I got there (2 seconds later), they were chatting it up with the young man on the other side. Apparently they'd forgotten all instructions to yell through the door, "Sorry, we're not interested!" Certainly, they forgot not to open the door to strangers.

When I entered into the mix I heard Rojo and the young man having quite an exchange. Of course Rojo knew him from the neighborhood, and this young stud was being so darling with him, I almost started crying. Here stood a tall, handsome, high school athlete, selling some such thing as a fund raiser for his team. Something we clearly don't need, but I bought one anyway, to the tune of $20.

He said goodbye to Rojo in such a sincere way, a way that showed me not only had he had exchanges with him in the past, but that he'd enjoyed them - he wasn't just being nice, which, would have been nice, too.

I love it when people are nice for the sake of being nice, but there's something that warms my heart even more when people are clearly feeling more than that - invested isn't the right word, but you know what I mean. They feel, oh, I guess, sincere in their interaction.

It was $20 well spent.

"Music"

So, Rojo, who's only interest in music up to this point has been ice cream truck and church songs, is getting familiar with popular music when he drives with Woohoo in the morning. He now has one favorite, and he sings it over and over and over and yes, you got it, over again. He asked if I could make it play on the radio. I'm powerful, but not that powerful. Turns out what he meant was could I put it on a disc so he could play it on the old Target boom box with flowers on it, and spattered paint from all the times its provided music during painting projects.

Found it on iTunes, burned it on a CD, and within five minutes he was jammin'. Now the song is stuck in my head, too, so I thought I'd share it with you, in the hopes that everyone I know could be singing Ke$ha's song, "Blow."

No need to thank me.

(And no, he has not seen the video.)

DAUGHTER OF THE DRUNK AT THE BAR

Look what my human did - all by herself! Not only did she WRITE a book, she made her own trailer! You must watch this, it's fantastic, just like her, just like the book.

love.

Chit-Chat

So this morning I was on breakfast duty, STM was away, and Rojo decided to pick this day, of all days, to sleep in. Not that I didn't mind a few extra quiet moments, I certainly did, but eventually I had to actually go and wake him up, and it was surprisingly difficult to do. Guess he really is a teenager, after all.

So, Woohoo was leaving at 7:15 sharp to get to school and take care of some things, and he needed to be ready to go. At 6:30 he was lounging (loudly). At 6:40 he was promising to come eat breakfast, but was making no moves towards having it happen. At 6:45 he was finally sitting at the breakfast bar, but was not eating. He was chatting. He was kicking to the beat of some song he was humming. He had his mouth engaged in ten different ways besides the one I needed it to be.

"Rojo, stop chatting and EAT!" I finally said in exasperation.

He continued to chat. Pretty much to himself, I guess, because I was not engaging.

"There's no time for chit-chat, EAT!" I said, now fully enraged.

"There's always time for chit-chat with a friend like you," he said, which of course made me laugh, which of course made him laugh, which of course gave his mouth one more thing to do besides eat.

After we got done laughing, I resumed the drill sergeant role, shouting out, "Eat! Eat! Just EAT!"

"Jesus," he said,"you're like a merry-go-round with the eat, eat, eat, when are you going to get off?"

So, he finally ate, they finally left, I finally took the dog for a walk, and on the way I saw that my favorite sign maker was back at it. "Make someone happy," it said. I decided that by getting off the merry-go-round I'd make at least two people happy.

Miracle Boy

So, I'm at Bi-Mart picking up a prescription. I march up to the counter and hear a woman to my left say, "Actually, you're in line." She was an elderly woman, sitting on the nearby bench waiting for the pharmacist to finish her order.

"Oh, okay, I'll stand over here and wait until you're done," I tell her.

She takes a harder look at me and says, "Aren't you the mother of the miracle boy?"

I had recognized her, too, but didn't knew her name - knew she was what we call one of the "holy elders" at our church. When I donate blood she often checks me in.

"So, you were at his Baptism, I see," I say.

"Yes, I've never seen anything like it," she says, "and I've seen a lot."

Then the woman proceeds to tear up and say, "That moment he raised his arms and led us all in the 'Alleuluia Chorus," really got me, it gets me just thinking about it."

"Yes, he's a special boy, alright," I say.

"He certainly is," she says, and wipes her eyes.

Then the mother of the miracle boy wiped hers, too.

Still Flying High

Day #2 was great. Showed Rojo where I would be parked on the days I come to get him, and that took a couple extra minutes. In those couple minutes one of his favorite people got dropped off and was walking into the building. Rojo didn't even glance back, he shot out of the car and was in that building, arm around the friend and marching forward.

Got an e-mail from one of the lovely women that work in the building saying how much she enjoyed her conversation with Rojo that day, and marveled at how much his communication skills have improved in the three years she's known him. Then she thanked me for sending him there. He forced her to be in the present, and she appreciated that. She looked forward to more of what he would be teaching her.

My friend Val and I had a few minutes to catch up today and we talked again about how Rojo has no ego whatsoever. No vanity. No modesty. No self-consciousness. No doubt and no anxiety about how his needs will be met. He is clear he can't do a whole lot of things, and he trusts that whomever he asks to help him, will be more than happy to. This approach hasn't failed him yet.

Why do we struggle so to believe this universal truth, that help is abundant and all we have to do is ask?

Got a good reminder of that recently. We are going to take Woohoo on an overnight trip to visit a college, and are leaving Rojo and Flicka home with a former teacher of his and her husband. Rojo was handled, but I worried about poor Flicka being home alone all day - she isn't used to that and doesn't like being alone. Finally reached out to someone that has told me numerous times she'd be happy to help with Flicka anytime, and guess what? She was happy to help out with Flicka - just like she said! Then she thanked ME for asking!

The message is clear. The universe is set up to be win:win. We ask, we receive. We give, we get. People are helped by helping. It all works if we just let it.


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

Off to a Great Start!

So, approximately two million details went into the first day of high school for Rojo. We're talking years. We're talking about meetings, lists, e-mails, binders of information, more meetings, more e-mails, more years, more lists, more, more, more. Thought I'd considered everything.

Monday afternoon I realized Rojo was going to need PE shoes for the next day. The next day. As in, the next one after that one. This is the kind of thing that would normally have been on my July list of things to do, but instead, it was on my Right This Minute List. Because he can't tie his shoes, it's not just a matter of running out and getting some. I twisted STM's arm, and dragged him to the Nike Factory Store (thank you, Nike, for being local and having an outlet a few miles away). We were there the day before school doing last minute shopping with all the other people doing the same thing. And it was hot. And I was freaking out. And I had my doubts about whether or not we'd find cool shoes with Velcro, in his size, at an outlet store, the very moment we needed them.

But, you already know the end of this story, right? They had one pair. Perfect. His size. Velcro. And not only were they already marked down because they were at the Factory Store, but they were on sale, too. Probably would have been full price if I'd bought them in July. I was rewarded for waiting. I was rewarded for not stressing about the PE shoes until I needed to focus on the PE shoes. I had a need and the universe swiftly and compassionately met the need.

So, Tuesday morning Rojo and Woohoo got up, had breakfast, got dressed, and were out the door by 7:15. I got a couple e-mails from different people at school saying Rojo was having a great day. My head and heart believed that, my stomach had a different idea. I inefficiently (and maniacally) flitted about all day, finally getting Flicka and going outside to wait for them to drive home way before they could possibly be driving home.

The car pulled up, and just as Rojo was getting out, an older man and his dog walked by. "Oh, hi, Jerry, hi, Phinneas," Rojo says.

"Hi, Rojo," says the man I now know to be Jerry. "How was your first day of high school?" So, I got to hear Rojo's stories as he told them to a man I'd never laid eyes on before, but whom clearly loves my boy and is invested in him.

As Jerry (finally) left, he turned to me and said, "I really enjoy my talks with Rojo at the dog park in the mornings. I'm going to miss them. I hope he'll come on the weekends."

You better believe it, Jerry.

Rojo told me all about history - loved his teacher. Loved all his teachers, actually. Didn't use his locker. Didn't remember to get food from the cafeteria like we'd talked about, but did remember that I'd packed snacks, so ate those during lunch. Did go to the restroom when prompted. Did have different buddies assigned to help him for various things. Did have every teacher/staff member/administrator looking on and out for him. Did bring more than one person to tears by how darn cute and sweet he is.

Rested at home for half an hour, peed, ate a snack, drank a ton of water (hadn't all day), then was ready to head right back to school for volleyball. We headed straight for the Snack Shack and announced to the two dads working there (one of whom is Rojo's godfather, Tom, the other the father of one of Rojo's mentors - no accidents), that we'd be helping. We sold Gatorade, water, and popcorn for a full hour, with about a million people coming in to say, "Hi, Rojo!" Both people I recognized, and those that I didn't.

Then our friend J. came into the Snack Shack (I've blogged a lot about this special young man). He is also in the new program at the high school. He was positively beaming. He was talking so fast and so excitedly I could hardly understand him. Didn't need words to get that the boy had had a great first day. He, too, had come back for more. J's mom came in - she was checking to see if I could keep an eye on J. while she ran to Target. "Sure, buy me a lock for Rojo's PE locker - you'll know what to get, one that he can manage." So she did. Meanwhile J. had worked out an alternative ride home for himself from another mom in our village. He was set to stay longer than his mom could, and had no problem being at the school indefinitely.

Sat between the two special boys on the bench and watched/listened as one person after another came to say hi to them. Little kids. Students. Siblings of their friends. Parents. Staff/teachers. All of a sudden the day(s) caught up with Rojo and he looked exhausted. "Rojo, you look tired, are you ready to go?"

"Yea, let's do," he said. On the way home he told me all about how the boys have five minutes to shower after PE. He's all excited about that. Had I thought about that before, I'd have lost several nights sleep, but because it (like the shoes), failed to reach my radar, it also failed to freak me out. He's not modest, he's full of belief that that, like everything else, will go just great for him.

When we got home there was a voicemail - friend of STM's wanted him to call him back. Turns out the man wanted to tell us that Rojo and Woohoo had been the topic of their dinner conversation that night. This man's daughter, Woohoo's friend, caught Woohoo walking hand-in-hand with Rojo out of the building when it was time to leave Tuesday afternoon. The friend told her family all about how proud and protective Woohoo is of her little brother, and that the whole school knows not to mess with him, or they mess with her (all 110 lbs. of her).

It was a great day.

Today was Late Start, Rojo didn't have to be there until 9:40. Woohoo left early to meet her boyfriend for coffee first (how grown up does that sound), so I said I'd take him - had to run errands out that way, anyway. Thought we'd leave about 9:15, get him there with time to spare, but not too much. Long about 9:00 he shouts up to me as I'm finishing getting ready and says, "Care? You ready to hit the road? I want to get to school and see my friends."




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

My Boy

My boy had Freshman Orientation on Friday. He was there from 8-2. 

My boy was "22% nervous and 78% excited." 

My boy made a bunch of new friends, "Mom, I have all their phone numbers in my phone." 

My boy ate lunch in the cafeteria, and ate what they were serving just like everyone else.

My boy knows all the women that work in the cafeteria (they used to work at his grade school). One of them asked me on Friday, "Will Big Bird be in his locker?" She remembers him from the days he looked like the picture above. NECBM of that.

My boy figured out where he was supposed to go and got there. "Mom, they gave me a schedule and it had all the room numbers on it, so I just looked up and found the rooms."

My boy fell asleep at his regular time today and got up at his regular time, meanwhile, I didn't sleep a wink last night, too busy trying to open his locker (unsuccessfully) all night in my dreams.

My boy hopped in his sister's car and drove off with her for his first real day today.

My boy didn't even ask if I would take him and get him to his room the first day.

My boy has plans for after school - we are going to the see his "girlfriend" play volleyball and help out in the Snack Shack.

Done List

Had so many things crossed off the To Do list, had to start a whole new list. Problem. Didn't just sit with that crossed off list and kiss the ground I walk on. I impetuously (we're not going to call it "compulsively") got out the paper and made a fresh list.

So, because not enough has been made of what I've been able to do this summer in between endless trips for snow cones, frozen yogurt, glazed donuts and talking/waiting/holding life in a freezing pattern about the ice cream truck, I decided to make a DONE! list. Read it and weep:

1. Cleaned the garage

2. Cleaned the outside toy box

3. Re-organized the whole garbage/recycling system at our house, and replaced in newly cleaned garage

4. Purged and re-organized the pantry

5. Went through all drawers/cupboards in the kitchen and sorted, purged and re-organized. Now I have an empty cupboard (it's tiny, but still...) and an empty drawer. Makes me happy every time I open them and see nothing in there.

6. Filled my car three times and hauled everything to Goodwill. The man's name that helps me there is Solomon. Say it with me, NO ACCIDENTS!

7. Filled my car innumerable times and went to the recycling center.

8. Filled my whole car with old and rusted shut paint cans and took them to the hazardous waste site. Guy that helped me saw the sticker on my car with the name of my kids' school and his wife works there. Totally know her. Say it with me...

9. Found a stack of old e-mails that will help my cousin write her memoir. Not only found them, but sent them to her. She was excited. I was more excited.

10. Cleaned my medicine cupboard. Praised God we don't need 1/2 the stuff in there we at one point needed.

11. Cleaned the attic crawl space and made it a place for luggage. Either need to start going places or purge the luggage, too.

12. Got rid of everything that Rojo doesn't use or doesn't fit him anymore. Took all the faded, tattered posters off his wall and hung up crosses, framed collages and his Baptismal gown, instead. A holy person should live in a holy room, don't you think?

13. The minute Woohoo left for three weeks in June, I hyper-organized her room. Instead of being mad I touched her stuff, she was grateful for the big head start, and has managed to sort of keep it that way.

14. Got rid of most of the clothes that don't fit me. If I got rid of everything that doesn't properly fit, I'd have five things to wear.

15. Got out all the artwork with broken glass, removed (and recycled) it, then reworked some frames/glass/art and re-hung in different places.

16. Weeded the yard within an inch of its life and then sort of kept it up the rest of the summer.

17. Built myself three new Target cabinets for our bathroom and hauled the nasty ones away.

And, tomorrow I will haul two giant tubs of paper that needs to be shredded to my local UPS. Was already planning on going to that UPS to make a return ANYWAY, then with a few clicks of the computer learned that it is also a contracted shredding center. Say it with me!






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

Recycling

Ever since I was told my book was "almost there," I haven't touched it. It is in a pile right next to my desk taunting me, but nothing about it beckons me. Quite the opposite. Instead I am knee deep into a complete purging of all the extra stuff in my house. No drawer is safe. No closet. No nook. No cranny. Today I will go drop off two large shelves worth of old paint at the hazardous waste site, wash those shelves like there's no tomorrow, and be blissed out as I put freshly reorganized totes in their place.

All the while I sort, toss, haul, and wipe, I am listening to soothing music and lost in my thoughts. It's a good lost. It's actually, the best kind of lost. It's a mindlessness kind of thinking, much more like meditation than anything else. And as I go through old things, I see that I am truly done with them, and that is healing. Done with taxes that go back to 1999. Done with different phases and eras of my life I don't care ever to go back to. Done with projects I thought I'd finish but have freed myself from ever needing to. Done with some of the boxes that hold hard times, too: all the paperwork that went with my father's death. All the different information on therapies we tried or considered trying. All the ventures I toyed with that didn't pan out.

Done.

It's time to make my house, and especially the basement, no longer a graveyard. No longer a place where things that are over, are stored forever. Keepsakes need to move. Junk needs to move. The energy needs to move.

What I am finding as more goes out the door, is that new reservoirs of my own energy and creativity are freed up, too. I am no longer considering the purging to be writing avoidance, but pre-writing. A necessary step towards being in a place where I can allow more in, because I released a bunch. It's really recycling, if you will, a recycling of energy.

Each of Each

You will be as surprised to hear this, as I was to feel it, but I'm actually not that excited for school to start next week. I am excited, but I'm lots of other things, too. Nervous. Anxious. Sad. Reflective. Nostalgic. You-name-it. Rojo will start in a program I worked years to help create. I vacillate between, "Yea! Finally!" to "OMG, I hope they aren't sorry! This is a lot of responsibility! I sold them a bill of goods!"

Then there's the fact that Woohoo starts her senior year of high school, and this will be the one and only year they'll be together there. While doing some preliminary clearing in the basement, I found the scrapbook I made of her K-8 years. (It is the one and only scrapbook I've ever in my life made.) It's true what they say, the years fly by. Soon she will be out the door and on to college, and life under our roof will never look the same for her, for us, forever.

As rough as this summer began, it has ended up being lovely. Rojo has gained so much independence and maturity, he needs me a fraction of what he started out needing, which is to say, a round-the-clock playmate/entertainer/driver/etc. He gives me several breaks a day and if the weather stayed lovely and he could "work" four hours a day and spend the rest at the dog park, he'd be happy, and so would I. It makes me think of all kinds of jobs that would be perfect for him after high school, and realize I don't need him to be gone all day every day, just consistently so we both have routine and breathers.

I asked him this weekend how he was feeling about high school. "Are you excited? Are you scared?"

"Each of both," he said.

My friend Terry has a family expression, "Each of each." When asked, "Do you want ice cream or pie?" and the answer is you would really go for a little of both, the answer to such (silly) questions is, "Each of each." I've been thinking a lot about that expression and Rojo's new Rojo-ism, "each of both," and thinking just how apt they are. It's not one or the other. It's not even simply "both." It's each of both, each of each.


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