Cigettes, Lice & Speeding

I've saved up some little son#1 tidbits to share. I'm also starting to think this Brainpopjr.com is waaaaay too smart for it's own good. First it's Presidents & the Civil War, now we're on to divorce, cigarrettes & lice!? Sigh!

Cigettes are cigarrettes. My son came excitedly off the bus awhile back telling me he had seen some stranger down the street, through the bus window with a cigette in his mouth. Not knowing WHAT he was talking about I was not as excited as he was or wanted me to be. I asked what a cigette was & he said, "Annie & Mobie say a cigette is a white stick with fire on the end. It's very bad for you."
me: "Okay, I see what you're saying now. Come on inside, we'll talk about it later."

son#1 "Okay, but I tried to yell through the window on the bus to tell the stranger with the cigette that it's bad for him, but he couldn't hear me. Shouldn't we go find him?"

me: "Uh no. No, not right now. Just get inside."

Later, he tells us at bedtime about how cigettes makes your lungs go from pink and healthy to black.

son#1 "Julie, did you know that if you smoke cigettes, your lungs will turn black like Darth Vaders?"

me: "Yes, I knew that. How do you know Darth Vader smoked cigettes though?"

son#1 "Well, remember he was on fire in Episode 3 on Mustifar and then his lungs were black & he had to have that box to talk?"

me: "Oh yeah, good point. Good night honey."

This morning, son#1 runs back to where I'm at in my room, telling me to come quick, there's two somethings outside. Now he mumbles and talks low, so it's always hard to hear him. Especially when he says something & sprints away in the middle of it. So I run out there thinking sons 2 & 3 have broken out & are roaming freely in the front yard. I had the storm door locked but the front door open. Nope, they're fine. But what son#1 is excitedly jumping up & down to show me, and pointing at repeatedly, is two "strangers" (our neighbors across the street) sitting on their front porch smoking cigarrettes. Nice. He's trying to open the front door while he's yelling,

"Hey strangers! Don't you know if you smoke those cigarrettes your lungs will turn black!? Strangers, over here, hey, don't smoke those cigarrettes, it's bad for you!"

I quickly shut the door & explained FIRST, we do NOT point at people. It's not polite. Then I gave the shortened version of some people make bad choices and one of those might be to smoke cigarrettes. We can't stop them or tell them it's bad for them, they are grownups, they know it's bad. And children are to NEVER smoke a cigarrette. It would make them sick.

son#1" Yeah, it sure is a bad choice to turn your lungs black."

So as a rule, if you didn't know, cigettes (which I think sounds much better than cigarrettes) are bad for you. And I don't think I'll be able to borrow a cup of sugar across the street for awhile.

Last month we're tucking in the boys to bed and son#1 always has something to say before we leave the room. Imagine that. I don't know WHERE he must get that talking thing he does. Anyway, so he is scratching his legs & all over his, head & his body. Part of this I assume is his dry Ezcema skin he's had since he was a baby and the other, well, he's almost 10 years old and hair is starting to appear on his legs. (that's a whole other blog) So his scratching is just making me think it's a sensory issue with the feeling of the air hitting his leg hairs or dry skin.
We start to leave the room and he says:

son#1: "You know, lice are parasites that live off of other plants or animals in order to survive. They may make your head tickle or itch. People should avoid scratching as much as possible. Scratching can lead to infections and worsen the problem."

me: "Why do you know this? (like I shouldn't have figured this one out already) And why are you telling me about lice?"

son#1: "I learned it from Annie & Mobie on Brainpopjr.com. And I think I have lice on me making my legs itch."

me: "NO-you don't. I promise. There are NO lice on you. Now stop scratching & go to bed."

son#1: "Lice live close to the scalp, where they feed on your bloods."

me: "You DO NOT have lice. Now stop scratching & go to sleep."

son#1: "Okay, good-night Julie"

me: "Good night baby."
(pause)
me: "Son, you didn't wear anyone's hat today or use their comb at school did you?"

So I think you can see just HOW educational brainpopjr IS to our children. All those discussions you may not know how to handle or what to say, let Annie & her robot Mobie tell them about divorce & using their friends hairbrush. Sigh!

Yesterday, son#1 was in the car while I was driving. He asked me if we can take the car to the 120 on the spedometer. I laughed and said no. This reminded me of going to my grandmothers house when I was little & an overpass we would travel on. I always wanted my dad to go "3-0" to see how many cars or trucks we'd "run over".
So anyway, son #1 says, why can't you go to 120? This is a good question. If your car is only by law allowed to go to 75mph or 80mph, WHY do they make it's capability for 120mph? This brought on a discussion about speed limits & the signs posted to tell you how fast you may go in certian areas. He watched me like a hawk all the way home. Then I heard a gasp at one point, I ask what is it. And he tells me:

son#1: "You went over the 40 that's the speed limit. Will the policeman take you to jail?"

me: "No, there's not a policeman here. He might stop me if I'm going more than two over the limit. Then he gives you a ticket and you have to pay a lot of money."

son#1: "And you have to say your sorry to him huh?"

me: "Yes that's right." (under my breath--"Among other things.")

Thanks Brainpopjr for turning my son into a cigarrette speed nazi! Sigh!

Men ARE From Mars & Women Just Do It Better

I can't say that with ten more years of marriage, I'd be any closer to understanding the way a man thinks. I heard it described as they have boxes they pull out & put back, one at a time in their brains. Where we women have jumble of wires in our brains that have everything connected to each other. Which might explain those sporadic shifts of conversation they think we pull out of nowhere. **Although I don't believe this explains Paula Abdul. I really have no clue what her problem is.**


Men & women deal with situations differently and also approach the problem from completely different angles. I'm throwing this out there because today when I went to get some eggs of the fridge to make son #3's birthday cake, THIS is what I found.
Do you see the scotch tape on the end!!?? Do you know what it's covering? A crack. When we brought these home Saturday, and hubbo was putting them up, there was one egg with a crack. I told him to gently leave it on top, I'd use it up in the next two days. I think his guy mind said, "No, I can fix this."
So this is how the male mind decides is the best, easiest fix to a cracked egg. Scotch tape. Not the way I personally would have approached it, but he gets points for inventiveness.
I guess I'm just lucky he didn't use duct tape huh?

A Review of Febuary & A Dash of Politics Thrown In

My oldest son brought home a journal of Febuary. I get the idea each day of the week in the month, the teacher passes out a page first thing in the morning with a primed sentence at the top for the kids to fill in as they see fit. Actually, there's a lot of lines so they can expand on the subject I guess. Being a boy who is very literal, has few subjects that interest him, makes it an interesting read to put it mildly. See if you can count how many times you would have said "DUH!" or "Here's your sign". Oh and I've already told you that he doesn't call me mom, just by my first name. I've underlined son#1's answers.


When the groundhog sees it's shadow it is sunny.

If I could fly a plane I would go to Arbys.

If animals could talk they would say thanks.

When I get money I will buy Lego Star Wars 3.

Abraham Lincoln was born.

Valentine's day is fun because I eat chips.

I get nervous at school when there is no chips.

I was mean to someone when I turn to the Dark Side.

Swimming is fun because it is not fun.

We celebrate George Washington's birthday because he was born.

At school I don't like to do handwriting.

I wish I had a panda. I also wish I had no school for weekdays.

If I lived underwater there would be fish.

My family always eats lunch.

When I have a problem I talk to Julie.

I get grouchy when I do handwriting.

My favorite song is Star Wars.

The best part of winter has been snow.

I want to write Valentine cards for Julie.

(and my favorite & last in the journal)

The President is supposed to talk to people.

Things I'm Thankful For

Since January I've had a double (middle) ear infection which caused vertigo, which brought on weeks with no end, migraines. After a handy trip to the chiropractor (my first!) where he "cracked" my ears, I have found relief! Therfore I am realizing some things I am VERY thankful for.

**Being able to take a shower & close my eyes when I shampoo my hair & not tip over into the wall.

**Sleeping without three pillows.

**Not needing 6 pills every 4-6 hours.

**The ability to lean my head into the kitchen sink to wash my hair without wanting to puke.

**My patience has increased.

**I've even stopped running into things.

Now, if I can just get Sally Field to quit appearing on every channel I turn it to, telling me how she's taken her osteoporsis medicine for the month, I might just survive.

Be My Valentine

It's happened! I have a son with his first girlfriend!! If you've read many articles or watched many 20/20 specials on Autism you probably realize it's not something that affects girls as often. That being the case, my sons have not gone to school (they are in 4th & 2nd grades) with more than one girl. Ever. And if you have seen pictures of my sons, you know they all have big brown eyes with long, thick eyelashes. Since babies they have & still do, flirt with every woman cashier or checker they come across at stores. I even ran into a woman that used to be a secretary at #1 son's school a couple years ago. When I mentioned his name, she lit up & said she knew just who he was. The big brown eyes, hugs and kisses are pretty hard to forget with him. Well this year is the second girl, and she is in #2 son's class. Her name is Emma and she has blonde hair.

Well the teacher called this afternoon & told me that #2 son had seemed a little off today. He wasn't eating his lunch which was odd for him. Not to mention it was macaroni & cheese with green beans. He ate the green beans but that was it. Most odd. Now, he does love him some green beans. He'll eat those first & then scout out everyone elses plates to see if they have any beans left before he'll go on to the other food on his plate. I guess little Emma was worried about him & decided today to willingly share her green beans with #2 son. Awwww!

The teacher also informed me that Emma & #2 will play chase around the room, giggling & laughing like hyenas. There is also a recliner in the classroom the teacher brought from home that the kids basically ignore. Except for Emma & #2 son. They tend to "fight" over it. Each trying to sit down first & then raise up a hand or extending a leg to ward the other off. Then they'll try & sit on top of each other or side by side, trying to wedge the other one out of the chair. All the while, smiling and laughing like gooney birds.

This may not seem like anything but the usual kid cuteness, but it's rare among children like my son. I think Emma can maybe talk a little, I've only met her once & can't really remember. The other kids in the room all ignore each other. Most are in the baby stages where it's all just self-awareness. They're not really concerned or aware of others around them. I know #2 ignores them, unless he's paying attention to what they have on their plates. But he doesn't Emma. So for them to recognize each others presence & interact with one another on a regular basis...well this is more than just cute. And if I know my son, he's batting his dark brown eyes and smiling his big toothy grin, winning over his first girlfriend.

Drama Kings

So the latest goings on here are a bunch of boy stuff. Ready? Here we go...

The baby is cutting some "stomach" teeth. It's been weeks! This means he wants to be crabby and cry at the closing of any door to his face, and any toy or snack taken from his hand. Therefore, by the laws of nature, the older boys realize this & feel the game is to rip as much food, toys or treasures out of his hands as possible. I'm sure it's just to see how long he can go without breathing & turning purple before he falls down or one of us "rescues" him. It's either that or they like listening to the octave he can reach when he's squealing about it. It started out with us running to him because he sounded like someone had broken his arm. Then the jig was up. "Crying Wolf"-which I think would be #3's Indian name, now has to have a full minute prolonged wail before we come running. Of course if he screeches & stops, we know we HAVE to get up & go blow in his face to make him take a breath before he stumbles into something or passes out. He's always done the hold your breath while you cry until you turn blue in the face bit.

#1 knows he's in charge when we're not in the same room with the boys. He's been properly trained to come get us if they take the cushions off the couch and jump, get into the food in the kitchen, or if he smells poop. However, thing we realized this week that we didn't train him for was ninja looting. The kids were watching something in the living room, we were in the bedroom working on some stuff on the computer. When we go check on them, guess what we find? #2 has reached up on top of the fridge & gotten down a bag with the last little bit of chips/crumbs in it. You know, the one you save, even though there aren't any chips big enough to eat with anything, yet too many crumbs to not feel wasteful about throwing it away. #2 takes this bag to the living room and sits down in the floor in this little cove between the ottoman & the sectional. He has his legs out in front of him & "brother bear" (son #3) wonders by & joins him with his legs out in front of him. SO, there they are, sitting facing each other, divvying up the chip crumbs in that bag, sharing them as quietly as possible.
As soon as they realized we saw them, it was like a car chase ending on COPS. #2 took off running & fled the scene of the crime. And #3 went into the face down, turned his head away from us, so that we OBVIOUSLY couldn't see him & got really, really still. Each of them disavowing the bag of chip crumbs & it's mess. Of course, #1 muttered, "I knew they'd get in trouble." Pretty sneaky for two kids that don't talk yet. Scares me about the teenage years though.

For awhile now son #1 has been really into a website he learned about from his teacher last year. www.brainpopjr.com and www.brainpop.com for older kiddos. He enjoys these & we love he's learning history, geography and really using the computer for education instead of just killing storm troopers. But the other night, our deep thinker caught us off guard. We're tucking him into bed, kissing him good-night when he tells us we need to recap what we've learned today. Alright.
We talk of what we've been doing that evening, then he mentions this juicy tidbit:

Son#1: "Oh and Anakin and Obi-Wan got a divorce."

Me & Hubbo: "What's that!?" "What?" (said with much spittle & stammering)

We did our best trying to stay in that calm, "You haven't flustered me!" parent voice, but I'm not sure it didn't show on our faces how shocked we were. We realize we can't shelter him from friends or people he'll know that ARE divorced, but he SURE hasn't heard that word from our mouths, so we were curious at nine years old where he heard it from. And more importantly, what he thought it was.

Hubbo: "Where did you hear that word divorce?"

Son#1: " On Brainpopjr. Mobie & Annie told me about it."

Me:"What did they say divorce is?"

Son#1: "It's when two people who love each other aren't married any more."

Hubbo: " That's right. But Obi-Wan & Anakin weren't married to each other."

Son#1:"But they were always together & in "Revenge of the Sith" Anakin turns bad and leaves Obi-Wan. He didn't love him anymore so they divorced."

Sigh! We went to bed. This was not a conversation to have on such little sleep. We'll attack it some other day. Maybe when he asks what tampons are.

Terrible Twos Twice

It's been awhile since I posted. December seems to have zapped my strength & tapped my energy reserves down to a breakingly low point. The terrible two's have invaded my home but my problem is double the trouble. The baby is nearing 2 years old so I expected this. #2 son is 7 years old, yet developmentally guess what? Two years old. Double sigh! I don't know if they've planned these little crime sprees or if they are just that in sync. Either way, I may not make it. I'm just telling you now. Divide up my stash of scrapbook stuff & yarn amongst yourselves when I'm gone. And someone come check on hubbo occasionally. Or cart him off to the loony bin, whichever.

The first week in December started out hinky with #2 son starting to act out again. Sigh! Here we go again. My mother came that Friday & watched them so we could go to my husband's Christmas party. He bit her before we ever got sat down to eat at the restaurant.

Second week in December, power outage. Staying here in a cold house for two days with NOTHING but the noise of your own children can really, really make you crazy. Then let's toss in a sprinkling of the baby teething those nasty "stomach" teeth & crying when you looked at him or anytime you shut a door to a room he wasn't allowed in. His nose ran, he was dramatic at anything and everything. It's amazing how if one is crying the other gets upset & cries too. Two peas in a pod pushing each other off my lap, vying for my attention.

The next week in December the kids went back to school, thank goodness, but only for two days. Sigh! I got the Christmas goodies made, and saw a movie just to keep from going insane. ALLLLLLLL this time, all these weeks, #2 son is melting down daily & usually multiple times a day. And not even the usual temper tantrum, now it's full blown, "I'm gonna bite you if you come near me or cross me!" tantrums. Lovely huh? You'd be amazed at how fast a 100lb kid can take you down. Picture a lion cutting out one of those baby wilder beasts from the herd. Not pretty. I think that week he bit everyone but the baby. Also, for fun, he loves to stand next to the keyboard & stick his flattened hand under your fingers as you type. Or as you start to use the mouse. Then there's the pulling of your hand off the keyboard or mouse. He giggles like a maniac too. ARGH! That is a majorly annoying thing. If you think it's not, have someone try it on you. After about the tenth time, I'm ready to cry & stab myself in the eye-in that order.

The final week of December they were home from school, and the new Christmas toys to entertain them. Did that work, distract them? HA! They laughed in my face as I tried my best to ply them with Chex Mix, Twizzlers and talking robots. It's like they were saying, "Funny lady, think WE can actually be entertained? What fun would that be if we can't follow you around everywhere you go & throw a good temper tantrum or fight with each other?!" All this time #2 son is pushing me, pushing me, scratching me, biting me, and pushing me. I kept thinking, these Winter Solstice days, REALLY are longer than the rest of the year.

January 3rd, they were back at school. There were some hands raised to heaven that day I don't mind telling ya. Can I get an AMEN here? Love my kids to death but mamma needed some "alone time". #2 son's school actually called me that first day he went back & said he was melting down so badly, they may send him home. ACK!!!! I nearly choked on my coffee. Seriously!? It's been TWO HOURS! Are you kidding me!? Why did I answer the phone? Fortunately, he stayed all day.

So the teacher, doctors & hubbo and I have put our heads together trying to figure out where this behavior is coming from. We're in the process of adjusting meds, we are on Claritin which seems to be helping-go figure. And although some tantrums are still happening, it's not AS bad as December-knock on wood. The main conclusion is he does needs meds adjusted BUT, he's just in the Terrible Twos. And I did capitalize that for a reason...it's earned some respect around here. Steer clear.

The baby is testing us too. He loves to run turn off the tv. Off & on, for about 5 FULL minutes. I think #1 son would love to leave home right about now. He's kind of giving off that vibe of "What if I was an only child?" The baby seems to be very interested in EVERY drawer in the kitchen and EVERYTHING in them. One day he got out every piece of silverware in the drawer & laid them out on the couch. When I caught him, he ran & hid. You know, that run & lay down on my tummy & turn my head? Be real still & maybe she won't see me thing. but at least he's not tall enough to reach the keyboard yet.

I might make it, then again, I might not. The baby isn't even two years old until March! Pray that we all make it out alive. I didn't ask for twins and I really don't think this is in the rules. The least that God could do is even out the weight ratio!

#33

Today, December 22, 2007, I am turning 33 years old. I say turning because I don't really feel you just magically take on a new age on your birthday when you wake up. I see it more as starting off the begining of a whole new year you earn. New things will happen, happy events, sad occasions, exciting changes & difficult ones. All these things, they all make that year and they change you.

One of my funniest, favorite gifts for birthdays has to be this set of coasters given to me by a friend yesterday:

And this one seems like something I'd like to say:

Enjoy the rest of my birthday!

Christmas Party & Ice Storms

Turn if you will, back in your calendars to last Friday-December 7, 2007. This was the evening of my hubbo's company Christmas party. My mom came to babysit the kids and got bit by middle son before we even got to eat dinner. Luckily, she survived but I think we better start searching for next years babysitter now.
We've gone to a good Chinese restaurant the past 3 years & we always play "Dirty Santa" with presents we all bring. In addition to the presents we bring, there's the ones the boss buys & brings. I can't even begin to tell you where he gets such things. I picture it as a dock down by their sister company in Florida. Taking whole pallets off boats for $100 "as is unseen". Usually there's some item he's purchased an unusually large amount of, and that is the hot item during our game of Dirty Santa. We have a small grouping of Mexican* families that don't speak English well, but they get this game. They are good at hiding the hot item under their chairs & keeping it till the end. They usually going home with several of the hot items in tow.

In the past these items have included, luggage, vases (I use that term loosely), 40 pc. tool kits, extra large calculators, pen/pencil sets, large carry-on bags with lipstick, animals or Route 66 on them, and comfort sets-king & queen sizes. We've made out fairly well just escaping with a nice comforter set one year. (Hey, having a king sized bed isn't cheap, I'll take any bedding for that bad boy.) We have numerous tool kits all around the garage & house, so we gave away one this year. I don't really usually want the hot items, but it's nice to have a little competition. If you know me, you know I'm always up for that. This year it was flower arrangements and MP3 players. Now, I'm sure these weren't high end, but hey, it's free right? Hubbo always plays it smart & safe. He goes for small bags hoping for gift cards. He usually walks away with one too. He's good-this year he got a camp chair from BassPro AND a gift card. There have been years early on where we picked our own presents to go home with it gets that scary.

I wish they'd take it seriously & just let everyone bring a gift & that's it. We are always there till midnight getting rid of all the extra gifts. I think the employees would rather have the money he spends on that stuff, in a bonus-cold, hard, cash. I was jaded after year 2 or 3 where some yahoo decided to bring a microwave cover & a Jewish teddy bear for his $10 gift. Guess who got that one? ME! It's not about I want a gift...I just feel that if I went to the trouble to bring a decent $10 gift, then so should everyone else. I still glare at that boy every time I see him. Hubbo thinks it's funny. If I remember correctly though, he went home with $10 & a candle that year. Of course he'd think that's funny! All in all, this years party wasn't too bad.

Did I mention we had a famous entertainer come perform for us?? Edward John! A Scandinavian pop Christian singer. I felt bad they gave him a sucky Karaoke mic & speaker, but he was good nonetheless. Here's a peek at his work: http://www.speakerheart.com/edwardjohn
Oh and did I forget the laying on of hands & speaking in tongues during our prayer before dinner? That'll have to be a different day, I'm not sure I have the energy for that today. I'm still recouping.

Two days after the party we had an ice storm here that knocked out the power in our state. Worst in history & FEMA showed up. The president sent federal aid and declared Oklahoma a national disaster area. It was bad. We were without power for 4 days. The roads were clear and the ice was melted the next day, but the damage was done. Branches had fallen in the roads & broken homes, fences & power lines. People had to put their food outside or loose it. Tons of schools had to restock their food that was all spoiled. I've never seen so many stores closes. EVERY Wal-Mart was closed. Generators caused a gas shortage & there was a threat of a water treatment plant being on the fritz after power loss for so long. We had a gas stove to cook but our chimney wasn't clear so we had no way to keep warm other than layers & layers of clothes. After two days it got too cold & we went to stay with my mother. I can't tell you how happy my children were to get back to their routine, beds & home Thursday! I know I was. I still have a kink in my back & I think the baby and I caught some cold or flu. I was sick all Friday and can't seem to get enough sleep.

Plus, the holiday spirit has up & left me. I feel like that one week took 3 off my life and Father Christmas can suck my big toe. I'm sure once I get past the horror of having to come up with 20 teacher/bus driver/co-worker gifts due in three days, I'll be okay. In the meantime though, I'm just bah-hum-bugging it through the day. I have given serious thanks though that the kids got to go back to school today. Might just get them something else in their stockings!

Hodge Podge

Random thoughts by a cold induced brain fog formerly known as--myself.



*I think God makes babies & kids cute so that when they do something wrong you can't throttle them as hard as you like. If I have to pick up one more shattered bulb from the Christmas tree, or set the tree back up again, I'm gonna scream or leave home for 2 weeks. I can't be responsible for my actions.



*Was bringing son#1 back to school the other day & he met some lady he knew in the office & hugged her & while hugging her made a kissing noise...on her boob. This is just the height he's at, but it caused her a smidge of alarm. The principal called me into her office & explained he did this to her last year. Maybe I could explain to him, kissing noises & pursed lips belong up above the neckline. Sigh! This ought to be a really interesting conversation huh?



*I finished knitting son#3's
sweater in time for Thanksgiving------>
(much thanks to Becky for the advice along the way)



*Our church here is going through some problems. I'm very frustrated that people today feel the need to have a timed worship service, see their friends as elders-qualified or not, get in everyone elses business, oh and be entertained or they'll take their toys & go home. There are plenty of people standing up getting angry, but not about the right thing.



*All the big boys have been sick in the house for a few weeks. Now the baby & I have it. But I feel like if I hear another cough, sputter, sneeze or fart, I'm gonna go out of my mind!! What happened to suffering silently!? And no, women don't belong in that category, we have our own thank you very much. It's called "I-Run-This-House-But-If-I-Get-Sick-No-One-Cares"



*My husband's company Christmas party is next Friday. I usually really enjoy this since it's almost our only date for the year. Literally. We go to a Chinese resturant & then do a very time consuming Dirty Santa gift exchange. With over 100 people...it takes awhile. This year, they're allowing children. WHAT!? There's always some non-English speaking couple that brings a baby anyways, well-behaved I might add, but COME ON! Why on earth do children need to be out on a Friday night, contained in this hot room, stuffed with presents to the ceiling until midnight!? It's like the grocery store, I come there without my kids to get AWAY from that noise & chaos. I don't want to hear yours there! Think people!



*And why on earth does everyone who ever hurts a child have to have their story plastered where I HAVE to at least read the headline when I log onto the internet? I don't want to see it anymore. I don't want to know what horrible things are being done to children by their own relatives. Maybe it used to happen all the time & we just didn't have the internet to hear about it. Maybe the people get ideas from the stories of others. I don't care. I can't take anymore, start showing me some happy crap gosh darn-it!!!!



*Could someone somewhere please make a rule or law that states you are NOT allowed to go out in public in your pajama pants??? I don't care if you're skinny or younger than me, just don't do it. We all know it's mostly the people that AREN'T skinny doing it. And I DO NOT want to see your scraggledy butt in house-shoes scuffing around the grocery store either. The sound of you sliding your feet (you know who you are!) is like nails on a chalk board! And while we're at it, women...WEAR A BRA...not a tank top to the store. It may not matter to you, but it sure does to the rest of us!


WHEW! I feel a WHOLE lot better!!! Now where's my Vicks....

But Why?

First I need to start off with explaining that Son#1 distingiushes his food by shapes. He always has. Round crackers are Ritz crackers. Octagon crackers are oyster crackers. And then of course that leaves his favorite cracker, saltines, or square crackers. Son#1's array of food isn't a long list. Part of Autism a lot of times leads to sensory issues. As I've described before, haircuts, loud noises etc. Food has texture to it...all of it. That makes it a sensory issue. Since he was a baby Son#1 would take those Gerber jars of babyfood with tiny chunks of meat in it & eat the spoonful only to wallow the piece of meat around in his mouth & deposit it back on my spoon. He wasn't even walking yet when he did this. He's NEVER been a fan of meat or veges or fruit.



So most days he's eating crackers, yogurt, chips or peanutbutter pretzels. On rare occasions we can get him to eat a grilled cheese. When he first started going to Denny's we had to "BYOF"-Bring Your Own Fries. Then he tried grilled cheese & from then on proclaimed "GOLD CHEESE SANDWICHES" good fare. BUT, only the ones from Denny's. Just a note here, don't ever think they'll let you buy JUST the sandwich with no fries at Denny's. They won't. They'll still charge you $3 for one plain "gold cheese" sandwich. This got to be an expensive habit because he'll eat several at a time. We even had acquired some of the red plastic baskets they serve the sandwiches in to fool him at home. I would cut my wax paper just so, make sure the sandwich was browned but not too brown. Cut it on the diaganol. No go. He knew it wasn't Denny's. However, this year, we've discovered he'll eat Sonic gold cheese sandwiches. Hurray! Cheaper & closer to our house. We indulge him about once every two weeks. Before you think I'm a mean mommy, he's figured out how to put up a wall & hold out on eating. So if we did the Sonic grilled cheese all the time, he'd never eat anything else & he'd wait us out for it, trust me. Same with McD's fries. We've tried to show him Wendy's has fries, and so does Braums. No go. That child is too smart for his own good.



The shape of the food brings me around to this past Sunday morning. I got Son#1 to accompany me & the baby to church that morning. I had plenty of books, snacks, Star Wars guys & dropped the baby off at the nursery. I had prepped him in the car we had to whisper, sit still and at one point they'll dim the lights but it won't get dark. (during communion) I was looking forward to him going to children's Bible hour & getting to sit through a sermon. It's been awhile! Daddy has to stay at home with Son#2 because he's the strongest...and this time, Son#2 protested A LOT at being left out.



So as we come in to the auditorum, he sees the communion plates ready for later at the back of the auditorium. He was very curious. I pull him on & we sit and he does super throughout the first part of the service. Then communion time came, the lights dimmed, and he leans over & whispers to me, "What's going on?"



me: "Remember I told you the lights would dim but not go out. This is communion"



We were doing good till they brought "the bread". Sigh!



Son#1: (in loud whispered voice) "Hey! Those are square crackers! I LOVE square crackers! I want some!"



me: "Uh no. These ARE square crackers, but they are grown-up square crackers, see how big they are? And kids aren't supposed to eat them. See-No kids are eating them."



Son#1: "But why can't I have any? My tummy is telling me it's hungry & I love square crackers! Everyone else is eating but me!" (which was sort of true to a very literal minded child)



Luckily by this point the nice man had come & taken the tray away again. But then, it's time for the grape juice.



Son#1: "Oh yummm I LOVE cherry juice! Look at all the little cups Julie!"



me:"Yeah but those aren't for kids either. And it's grape juice, not cherry juice."


I try to hold the tray with one hand, take my tiny cup with the other, and guess who moved in for the kill? You got it! Now I realize that these things represent other things (Christ blood & body) and they won't HURT him to eat them. But I didn't really have it in me to deal with all those weird looks people throw you when people just let their kid do the buffet conga through the communion trays.



I managed to get the juice away from him without too much incident & back in the tray & pass it off. I gave him his snacks from my bag & distracted him with change for the contribution that was next. And don't worry, I was careful to explain to my VERY literal son, that you can't take it back out when you put it in the tray. Crisis avoided.



Although he went to children's Bible hour, he came back after a little bit, not liking their singing. Everyone's a critic. He sat looking at his Bible & books. I was so proud he do so well. Then as he started getting antsy I showed him on the front of the announcement the order things were progressing in. Song titles, prayers, and sermon. I showed him that we just had a little bit longer. Two songs a prayer & we could go. He wasn't thrilled but kept it together. For a bit.

Then someone went forward during our invitation song. Uh oh, we're deviating from the program. Mom said two songs and a prayer...this is taking even longer! He did start whispering quite loudly. I was on the end & he was trying to get past me. I finally pulled out the ol' "Be quiet & sit down, everyone is looking at you."



Son#1: (stands up, looks around) "No they're not!"



me: sigh! "Sit your hiney down or there's not computer when we get home!"



Then the closing prayer.



Son#1:"What's a prayer?"



me: "You know what a prayer is. It's when we talk to God."



Son#1: (looking all around) "But where is he, I don't see him?"



me:"He's in heaven, remember? With Papa & Nana2? We can't see him."



Son#1: "Then why are we talking to him?"


I was just SOOOO thankful Jimmy Allen wasn't there to lead us in 16 verses of "Just As I Am".

Happy Birthday Daddy

Today would have been my father's 74th birthday. He would have a big pecan pie. And I'm sure I would have bought him something with the St. Louis Cardinals on it. There was a song I kept hearing on the radio during the few days before he died & afterwards too. It seemed like such a heart wrenching thing at the time, but I never had the strength to turn the station. I always had to listen. Then later on, it became more like a comforting pat on the back from God. The words are such an honest read on what heaven ultimately is. Shedding the sins & struggles we have carried all these years.

"When I Get Where I'm Goin" by Brad Paisley with Dolly Parton

Paparazzi

I'm sure we've all seen the clips on tv or online with different starlets and hunky men from television & movies. They are chased relentlessly by the paparazzi. They take their pictures are out on dates, trips to the store or out with their kids. Calling their name, wanting the picture that will get them the most money. I can't imagine being hassled like that or hounded until you have a car accident or just want to escape. The celebs wear wigs, sunglasses and try secluded spots to try & avoid the paparazzi.

I realize that being a SAHM (stay-at-home-mom) isn't exactly glam to a lot of people. Sometimes it's not to us either! There's diapers, accidents that don't even make it INTO the diapers, illness, tantrums, biting, pinching, scratching and of course crying jags (although some of those could be mine). Now there ARE several perks to the job though. Hugs, kisses & that little light in their eyes that comes alive when you walk in a room. Those are all the obvious ones, but did you know being a SAHM wins you your own groupies? Yes, that's right, I have my very own paparazzi. They follow me around wherever I go. I go out in the garage to do laundry, they are pounding on the door trying to get to me. (or perhaps it's the snacks I keep out there)
The bathroom--a shower means little hands reaching under the door or crying outside making me rush leaving soap in my hair so I can rush out & address my waiting "paps" in a towel.

Dinner is a huge event. I swear they can hear me open the fridge and they come running. They're like cats and the can opener! I'm beginning to wonder if they've used their allowance to go buy one of those Listen Up! hearing devices. Once they're in the kitchen with me it's all grabbing at my legs, swiping at food, pushing cups at me for refills, and asking when they can have this or that. They hound me until I can't take anymore, or I feed them. It's even worse when I try to go to the grocery store. I come back & there they are, waiting for me. I can barely get in the back door with the sacks & slap them up on the counter & there they are wanting me to pick them up like they haven't seen me in days, pulling at me to get them something (what's wrong with your dad's arms?) or digging through the sacks to see what I've brought them.

My paparazzi is relentless, annoying and has very sharp elbows. BUT, they're my biggest fans. They aren't going to sell my autograph on ebay, they don't want the "money shot" of me with no make-up, they just want me. I think I can dig that. Most days anyway.

Celebrations Assembly

Son#1 had an assembly coming up at school & he'd always backed out in the past. He practice all nice, but would never perform at the end in front of everyone. I told him I'd come to this one & he promptly told me then he'd sit with me & wouldn't sing. I told him I wasn't coming to see everyone else sing, just him. And that if he didn't perform, I wasn't going to go at all. I tried to bribe him with taking pictures for his scrapbook, no dice. Finally, the morning of the assembly (Tues-23rd) I said I'd take video if he'd get up there & sing. He readily agreed as long as I'd make it into a Quicktime movie for him to watch on the computer. (He loves it when we upload the videos from birthdays etc and he watches them over & over on the computer.) Son#1 also told me he'd stand up on stage, but just mouth the words. I can live with that.

I got to the school early enough with the baby in a stroller to get a good seat. And his class came in soon after. It was all 4th & 5th graders from the whole school. Then the rest of the school/teachers were all piled in the cafeteria to watch. The video doesn't even show HALF the kids on stage. I was really proud of him that he did it! And by that I mean stayed up there & sang or at least pretended too. You can tell he's sort of dancing along, even when there weren't hand movements or choreography. I think he was hamming it up for the camera personally. You'll notice my hand shakes in some of them. That was either, the baby messing with my arm, me laughing or my arm shaking from 15 straight minutes of holding my arm up in the air.

They did a couple small songs & I was thrilled that my camera batteries held out, thinking we were done. I put the camera away & one of my son's teachers offered to take the baby out for a stroll down the hallway to keep him occupied. That was wonderful! Then they handed out awards, which Son#1 did receive one for reading his books for the quarter. When I saw they were going to send a couple more songs, I KNEW I better run get that camera that was in the bottom of the stroller. I ran out into the hallway to get it, talked to some teachers a bit until a helper came out & told me I better hurry. Seems Son#1 wasn't allowing the music teacher to start those songs, until his mom came back with her camera. Sigh! I told you he was a ham!

In the curriculum from the state, the 3rd & 4th graders must learn the Pre-Amble to the Constitution & all states & their capitals. The principal was thrilled when the music teacher Mr. Childers taught it all to the kids in song form. I personally think this is brilliant, but then that's the only way I can remember all of Jesus apostles to be honest.

Enjoy the songs, and the "ants-in-my-pants" dance my son seems to have going on. He's in the bright blue shirt, front row, dead center. Bet they don't make THAT mistake twice. Eat your heart out Britney Spears !!

I recommend, I LOVE, Oklahoma, We the People & The Addams Family. Click here & scroll down.

I Love- http://s5.photobucket.com/albums/y162/JSwaim/The%20Fam/?action=view&current=Ilove.flv

Oklahoma- http://s5.photobucket.com/albums/y162/JSwaim/The%20Fam/?action=view&current=oklahoma.flv

We the People- http://s5.photobucket.com/albums/y162/JSwaim/The%20Fam/?action=view&current=wethepeople.flv

Addams Family- http://s5.photobucket.com/albums/y162/JSwaim/The%20Fam/?action=view&current=addamsfamily.flv

10th: aluminum, tin, diamond jewelry

Today, October 18, 2007 hubbo & I have been married 10 years. A DECADE!!!! In many ways it went by fast & it also doesn't seem like 10 years. Then, in other areas, we've gone through a lot for just ten years.

I take you to be my wedded wife.
I take you to meet my family who live far, far away in a state you've never been to. I take you on a trip back to our honemoon spot. I take you on a three day trip back home to see my mother one last time. I take you out to dinner when I can afford it & there's a babysitter. I take you for granted sometimes when I shouldn't.

To have and to hold,
To have some money. To hold your hand. To have some babies. To hold keys to a new house and a new car. To have common sense.

from this day forward, for better, for worse,
Moving. Jobs. Babies. Cancer. Moving. Friends. Branson. Weddings. Babies. Death. Respect.

for richer, for poorer,
Your job-through famine & feast-they understand the needs of our family and allow us to parent accordingly.

in sickness or in health,
Autism for two, your mother's cancer, a two-year-old's broken leg, two sets of tonsils, and my father.

to love and to cherish 'till death do us part.
The way you make me laugh out loud, even when I don't want to. You talking to me in the car and missing a turn. Your helpfullness with the house and all that's in it. Diaper duty and playing with the kids comes so naturally to you. Your selflessness and your endless patience with me and the children. Oh and your snoring.

And hereto I pledge you my faithfulness.
For many more decades, hubbo. Many more, so don't think you're going anywhere anytime soon.

Don't Squeeze The Charmin

I found a lump in my breast the month before my dad died, two months before my third baby was born. I went to the doctor & was relieved that I had a matching one on the other side. Apparently they were clogged ducts. Nothing exciting & I was too young to get a mammogram. At the time I had bigger things to worry about.

This years September's scrapbooking crop brought only three of us together. Friend R, a nurse-friend T, my Celiac (wheat allergy) friend & friend G, a really good friend & whose house we were at. Somehow with just a few of us, there was more talk than cropping, accompanied by lots of snacking. The conversation turned to Cancer & then breast Cancer. Turns out, Friend R had survived breast Cancer & I never knew. I knew she was strong & capable of many things, but I immediately had a new respect for her. Friend T did the breast Cancer walk here in Tulsa, in memory of several family members including her mother. And Friend G, well, she had found a lump once & had to go in to have it biopsied. It was benign.

A week later, I found a lump. The same lump. But this time, it was sore-very sore. I scheduled a doctor appointment for the next day & she told me to leave it alone for 2 weeks & not touch it. If it still hurts, come back & they'd do an ultrasound. That was rather surreal. I wasn't too worried. All the things I could Google about breast lumps & soreness didn't point to cancer. As a general rule, as if Cancer abides by rules, Cancer doesn't hurt. Okay then. Now the waiting begins. Two & a half MORE weeks of waiting to get my mammogram & ultrasound.

Today was the day. I went in at 1pm to the Tulsa Breast Cancer Center in the Natalie building, which is between the Warren & Kelley buildings. (all you Tulsa friends out there, go get squished) It was a packed waiting room of lots of old men. Finally the receptionist took pity on them & turned the TV from HGTV to CNN. They were a very fast & efficient staff. They'd call you back for paperwork questions, then dismiss you back to the waiting room. They had a huge nursing staff to take people back very quickly for mammograms. One husband tried to follow his wife back & the nurse politely told him no.

"No men allowed, I'm sorry sir."

"That's okay, I understand."

It was rather comforting to see that many husbands there in support of their wives.

After I was called back I was led to what looked like bathing suit dressing room. There were about ten rooms-five on each side-with chairs in between them. Your nurse-you had your own-ushered you back to an empty room that had a little straw purse hanging on the wall filled with deodorant & wipes. The wipes, she informed me, were to take off any anti-perspirant you were wearing. She said it shows up on the x-rays like little specks. I could happily tell her I wasn't wearing anti-persperant.

***I will take this time to offer up the brand of deodorant stick I use & why. When my mother-in-law found out she had breast cancer several years ago she had just had a mammogram in April & found her lump in October. She lived about two years after that. In that time, she researched & found lots of things that aid Cancer cells to keep forming or regenerating. But one of the things she found that was interesting (her doctor backed this up) is that most anti-persperant contains ALUMINUM as it's first & largest ingredient. And sweating is natural. It's good for your glands. Especially women's lymph glands under their arms. You need those glands to sweat the toxins out of your body. With anti-persperant, your body isn't allowed to sweat & therefore clogs up those glands. The smell your body gives off, is from the bacteria that grows on the toxins your body is getting rid of. This deodorant just kills that bacteria that smells.So, my husband & I use two different kinds of deodorant. This is what I use now: http://www.walgreens.com/store/product.jsp?id=prod396895&CATID=304733&skuid=sku396896&V=G&ec=frgl_wic&ci_src=17588969&ci_sku=sku396896

My husband uses this kind: http://www.walgreens.com/store/product.jsp?CATID=304733&navAction=jump&navCount=4&id=prod396875

It's a pretty easy thing to do, to help prevent cancer, and just be healthy, in my opinion. Especially for women.***

Okay, so back to the dressing room. I have to take off my shirt & bra, and put on a cape that snaps in the front. Then sit & read a magazine till it's my turn. There were all kinds of women there-old, middle-aged, and younger. I was the youngest one there. It's amazing how natural women try to make it seem that they are sitting there half-naked with sheets draped over them, full make-up, reading a magazine like they're at the hair salon. The next step is they take you into a room with the mammogram machine & take your info & start snapping pictures. I won't lie to you. It IS very odd to have another woman handle your breast & place it like a chicken cutlet on this VERY VERY COLD machine & proceed to talk in a very soothing voice. As she's talking & asking you questions, she's tightening this vice like you had in shop class, down onto your boob, er, breast I mean. (I hate the word breast. I think that stems back to singing that word in songs at church. Very unnatural.)

If it was a routine yearly exam I would have four films, two of each side. But in my "special" case, I got a whopping seven. SEVEN X-RAYS. I was in weird positions that I wasn't really sure were possible. I had no clue you could stand THAT far away from your own boob! She had sized & shaped attachments sort of like on your vacuum cleaner, she would stick on the machine & then tighten the vice down again while you're reaching with your arm up & over and trying to keep your hair out of the film.

I told her I was certain a man had invented the machine because the board where your boob, er breast, sits is STONE COLD. A woman would have had that done in heated marble I was sure. I'm finished & go back to the dressing room area. The funky colored pink chairs where we all sit & look at magazines and wait for the nurse to come & dismiss you with those very happy words, "You can go now Ms. X, you're fine." At least three of the women left with that phrase ringing in their ears, and then two with, "You can dress & leave now Ms. Y, you'll be receiving a letter in the mail in one week."

I was the only one left for a LONG time. I was still waiting for the ultrasound and then..."Ms. Z? You can dress & go. The doctor found nothing but fatty tissue on your x-rays. There's no need to do an ultrasound on your lump."

me: "Really? So I'm just fat & lumpy?"

nurse: "Yes, well, I mean, no. Sort of." (nervous laugh)

me: "But it's not anything serious right?"

nurse: "Right!"

She handed me a brochure on some things to cut out --caffeine-which I already did. And Vitamin E & Primrose Oil to add in. Oh, and the best part, no more mammograms till I'm 40 years old! I hurriedly dressed & raced home to share the news with hubbo. He was thrilled & did the touchdown sign. I was hoping for an end zone dance, but we didn't want to wake the baby.

So go get squished, it isn't that bad, if you don't have a painful lump.

Tidbits

New shoes on son #1 before the bus came today.
Here's how it went.

Son#1: "No, no, no! I don't WANT new shoes! I want my old ones!"

Mommy: "But you need new shoes, your old ones are wearing out & your toes are too long for those shoes."

Son#1 scrambles to remove his sock & look down at his toes. "But my toes don't LOOK too long."

Mommy: "Come on, these will be great, they are new, and white & pretty."

Son#1" Oh no! (he says dejectedly) These have strings!" (shoelaces)

Mommy: "Yeah, well, when you start wearing mens sized shoes, they really don't make many with velcro."

Time passes, the new shoes are worn, PBS kids becomes more important than the new shoes.

The new shoes for Son#2, won't go over his toes. He gets that from me. They are slip on shoes in an effort to help us ALL out since Son#2 does NOT keep his shoes on for long at all. By the time the bus pulls away from the curb in the mornings, his shoes & socks are already off. But he's smiling. He also gets that barefoot thing from me & I get it from my mom.



Son#1 had been thinking. He passes by me & spits out some soft-spoken little sentence that has nothing to do with anything--yet, still seems oddly important, I better listen again.


Son#1: "I wish Daddy had less sleep."


AH HA!!!! I've often thought that children purposely used that against us in parenting. It's some sort of covert operation they train for in utero. Then they go to some secret pre-school debriefing at a certian stage. They let us resume our sleep schedule & report all the tidbits of they've tortured out of us while we've wandered around for years sleep-deprived. I'm sure it's things like, what decible to whine at for "x" amount of time, to get us to give in on something we WERE once steadfast in refusing. Or maybe it's to wear us down until they see us in slow motion enough to figure out the ins & outs of reverse psychology. Kids DO pick up on things quickly. Whatever it is, I think Son#1 just let it slip that there's DEFINETLY a torture method our country abides by....SLEEP DEPRIVATION!!!! **


Anyway, so Son#1 wishes Daddy had less sleep huh??

Mommy: "Huh? What's that?"

Son#1: "I wish Daddy had less sleep so he'd walk around forgetting stuff & seeing things that weren't there." (said with a giggle)

Mommy: "I think he already does that sweetie. Now go get your backpack on, the bus is almost here."

I can't let on that I know what his reconnaissance mission is. I'm sure this has something to do Star Wars. I haven't figured it out yet, but Son#1 DOES have a rather wicked sense of humor.


**I meant by children. Please do not email me about our country & their stance on torture. If you do, I'll just be forced to send my non-sleeping 100 lb .child to your house for the week & see what he gets out of you.**

Now on a happy note, I leave you with a picture of Son#1's Star Wars Galaxy Heroes. He LOVES them & has a million. They are cheap, (2 in a pkg for $6) and make great gifts. If your kid likes Star Wars, new or old movies, they'll love them. I tried to pick some older SW characters you might recognize easily. Go ahead & see who can be the first to post the correct names of the hereos below & you'll win...well, let's be honest, nothing. Yes, it's that kind of blog.:)

Clue

Son #2 came home Friday early from school. He was having meltdowns he couldn't get under control. The weekend held more.This is the ugly side of Autism. Living with someone who can not talk is frustrating. 90% of the time, he can make his point, get his wants & needs expressed by taking your hand & leading you to the item, area or thing he wishes. The other 10% of the time, it's hell trying to figure out what he wants while he beats on his face, pinches his body all over making welts or runs his body into things in frustration. Sometimes there is pain. If you have a headache, you take an asprin. If your teeth hurt, you go to a dentist. For son#2, without words, there are hardly any signs to express at "2 years old" that your tummy hurts. The reason he is on medicine is because of the frustration that comes with non-verbal communication. He does not have that abilities to channel or control those frustrations & emotions. They overcome him & he acts out. Sometimes at us, mostly at himself. I understand completely. I may not know what he wants, but I get so frustrated from not knowing what's wrong, that I act out too. Autism is brutal some days. Those are the days you get looks. People stare. The grocery store is difficult, and church impossible. You become a detective following the clues. WHERE is he pinching? What area of his body? That is most likely what hurts. His belly? Gas? Constipation? How does he communicate that to us? He's walking on his very tip toes, that's the ultimate upset. He wails like a bale wolf, it pierces your eardrum & he hits his own jaws with his fists-HARD. His ears & cheeks are red like fire. Is that a clue it's his teeth? A cavity? A trip to the dentist will actually take place at a hospital most likely & he'll have to be put under to do any X-Rays, exams or anything else.

Those bad days are a guessing game. When you solve the puzzle--Son#2 did it, in the bathroom and constipation was the weapon used--it's a large victory.

A friend (thanks Tracey!) sent a video to me I want you to see & although, rap isn't really what many of you may like, watch & listen to the words please. This man's bio is as follows:
Sean Delaney is musician as well as a Direct Support Professional with the Special Needs Program in upstate New York. After spending several years working with adults with autism and other developmental disabilities, he felt compelled to speak to his generation. This song is a plea to his peers to open their eyes and encourage them to become more aware and involved with this rapidly growing population.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cSdfCN5ewHY

I won, I won, I won!!

I never win ANYTHING-yet I just won a caption contest for our LYS (local yarn store) in downtown Tulsa. Here's the baby picture I was supposed to find a caption for & the handspun yarn I won! My winning caption was "Pardon me, do you have any Gray Poupon?"
http://www.loopsknitting.com/blog/2007/09/lilys-caption-contest.html

Shave & A Haircut...Two Bits

*** WARNING-Some of these parental decesions you may not agree with. However, until you live at my house, you don't get to choose what's uncalled for or complain about how YOU'D handle MY children. This is just to maybe enlighten you as to how a very ordinary thing & even fun for most kids, isn't for us.***

When you go get a haircut it's usually something you schedule, look forward to (especially if you're a woman) and maybe even enjoy. For me, I love it. Puts me to sleep to have someone playing with my hair. Hubbo's hair grows so fast he has his cut every two weeks. However, haircuts have come to mean entirely different things to our family since we've had kids. Normal things aren't always normal in our household, even the most common things don't get to be normal or easy. It zaps your strength & leaves your mental energy comatose for an hour afterwards.

Children on the Autism Spectrum most often have all kinds of different sensory issues. One of the huge ones for our boys has always been the ears. Nothing loud, anything new or they cover them, and DON'T put anything by or in them! I know you're asking, "And this has WHAT to do with haircuts?" Well, when you're kids have sensory issues & won't just allow you to cut their hair, you have to get creative or go hippy.

There's two clear options: scissors & clippers. We first tried scissors. We'd put son#1 as a baby in a highchair in front of the tv & pop in a video. My mom would get out the scissors & we'd cut his hair & he'd hardly notice. As he got older, he noticed, BIG TIME. He grew stronger & bigger than high chairs & it took more to give him haircuts. Until you've wrapped your kid in a towel & held them down for a haircut & made them cry till they puke, you don't know parental guilt. It became clear as son #1 got older it was easier to just buzz his hair. And less dangerous since scissors stab. Then later, as he began to talk & communicate better with words, it was easier to make him understand that the haircut wasn't bad. Now, we're to the point of big boy haircuts with him done with scissors. And he only scrunches his neck a little when you get to over the ears. I believe his last conversation with my mom cutting his hair outside in a t-shirt & his underwear went like this.

Nana: "Put on this cape so you won't get hair on you. "

Son#1: "Oh, ok. It's a shirt shield?" (another Star Wars reference)

Mommy: "Yeah I guess it is." (laughing)

Son#1: "You won't use pokey scissors will you Nana?"

Nana: "No honey & Nana will try not to poke you with them."

Son#1: "Nana?"

Nana: "Yes baby?"

Son#1: "Can I get an underwear shield? There's hair falling all over me here."

That was a couple weeks ago & although it's taken 9 years, it's sheer progress! We're proud of him for not crying anymore. And son#1 even lets Hubbo do the no guard clean up with the clippers on his neck & over his ears. We've come a long way baby!!

Son#2 has issues with communication so that makes haircuts even MORE of a challenge. He doesn't know it won't hurt or isn't anything to be upset over. Today is school picture day for son #2. So last night I ran to the store & picked up a couple of shirts to go with his background we chose & some new shoes he needed. Then the REAL fun began. This summer son#2 moved out of the high chair & into sitting by himself (when he sits) at the dining room table. Nice accomplishment but it means trouble on the haircutting front. We dragged out the old highchair to keep him contained in & got out the clippers. We even bought the kid clippers that makes less noise. Son#2 is still in the phase of the buzzing hurting his ears & really just screaming about being contained for it all. He scrunches his shoulders and covers his ears & tucks his chin down to his chest.

I realize this is all seems cruel & unusual punishment, but how else do you give your child a haircut? Take them in public where STRANGERS can scare them? Let them scream down the salon or barber shop? The people cutting WILL stop & not go on, I promise you that. One time when son#2 was about 3-4 yrs old, he fell asleep on the floor on his tummy. I slowly stuck a towel under his head. I turned on the clippers & laid them by his head & jacked up the volume of the tv so it would drown out some of the clipper noise. After a minute or so of knowing he was used to that noise, I buzzed his hair while he slept. Whole haircut & he was none the wiser. Some people thought that was terrible of me. I guarentee if you came over last night, you'd opt for the sleeping version. He's not as deep a sleeper to do that anymore & his head has WAY more hair too. But it WAS one of my more creative moments as a mommy.

Last night we had a plan of just blending his hair with the clippers up the sides & leaving the top long. We got out the old high chair, got him in it, and began. Usually I'm the one that does the haircut & Hubbo holds his hands away from the action. This time, I held the hands. Funny enough, it took less time I think (average haircut for son#2 is about 30-40 min-those are VERY VERY long minutes, especially for son#2) and it looked WAY better! Son #2 even let Hubbo do the back & sideburns with no guard. He did cry & fuss & we had to hold his arms & push his head into our chest & hold it there to do either side, but it got done. I think he fights a little less each time. I swept up all the hair & cleaned up the highchair while Hubbo took Son#2 off to the shower.

I put gel in his hair this morning & combed it. Usually there's no need for combing it, it's so coarse that it does it's own thing. He looked adorable & sweet. Oh and he really looked his age-7 years old. My baby is growing up. Nothing like those big boy haircuts to make them look more like their daddy. Now watch, he'll be looking the other way in his picture today!

Point & Jabber

We are happy to announce that son#3 has reached a small but important, developmental milestone this past week. He is pointing at things & jabbering to us about them. Usually it's some form of "that", and it comes out sounding like "dat". This may be taken in stride by other parents, but we're on our third child & have never been through this phase once yet. We could not be happier since the speech therapist that was here Memorial Day weekend said that was a precursor to talking for most babies.

Also, everyone is "dada". Well, except Nana. He's got that her name down too. As much as I try, Hubbo tries, he still looks at me & says "dada". With a smile on his face, first thing in the morning, happy to see me..."dada". Sigh! He's gotten close a couple of times to the Mmmmm sound, but still no luck. At first I thought he was taunting me, now I'm not sure it's in the cards for me to be called mom. You'd think me being the parent that's here with them 90% of the time, they'd choose to say MY name. But NOOOOOOO! That's too easy I guess! Son #2 who doesn't use many things that sound like words- even one of his VERY few, is "dee-a-dee". Oh and the real kicker, son #1, the one who speaks at will with any word he cares to...calls me Julie. Yeaaaaah. Try going to the book fair or somewhere new & in public & having your kid call you by your first name. Everyone thinks you're the babysitter! When I came to son#1's school last year, he was SOOOO excited, he about cried. Literally. Smile on his face, walking down the hallway introducing me to the librarian, music teacher, etc. Then another teacher comes out of her classroom & asks, "Oh, is this your mother?" Son#1: "Nope, this is Julie." Sigh! Maybe one day.

In the meantime, we feel elated every time son#3 points & looks back at us jabbering, knowing that he's leaving that Autism gene behind him in his dust!

Fort Knox

If you've come to our home you've seen all our locks on almost every door. They're the ones you used to see on your grandma's screen door. Just a hook & eye type latch. We have them at the tops of every door but the kids room. All the closets, hall & bedroom. The bathroom & even a giant one my dad put on the door that goes from the kitchen into the garage. We started this a couple years ago for son#2. When he came out of his little cocoon & discovered there was a world for his taking. And take he did. Crisco out of cabinets to feel & smear all over his face. Vaseline out of the bathroom; which stays for a long time in your hair. Lotion is pretty squeezed out all over the carpet up & down the hallway. And then there's the front & back doors with the key dead bolts. VERY handy indeed! This weekend it was shower gel ALLLLLLL over the bathroom floor. With my gimpy knee, I let daddy look like Keystone Cops in there cleaning it up.



Our probably most inventive lock to date has to be the dog collar you'll see on the fridge. It keeps the fridge locked, and so far keeps son#2 from defeating it & stuffing his already chubby little face with hand dipped butter. I personally thought this one was quite ingenious on our part. This past summer, since son#2 has grown to 4ft 4 inches tall & turned 7 years old, we've had to move some of the locks up higher out of his reach. Not pretty, but it gets the job done. We also had to install some little alarms recently because he's tall enough to open all the higher cabinets in the kitchen--or our closet which he seems to be able to pop the lock on & string out my yarn. Now when he pulls them open a nice shrill, piercing alarm goes off & scares him away & us to the scene of the crime.



But now, he has a partner. An accomplice if you will, a new master mind to try & help him evade our Fort Knox we have going here. Son #3 has taken to this life of "crime" with ease. He's fast, sneaky, and QUIET. He is able to tread where the 92lbs of son#2 can not tread quietly. #3's interests include, standing on the dining room table, on top of the toy shopping cart, toy box or anything else he can get a leg up on. He has total domination over sneak attacks. He will wait till you get up to get something & army crawl in & swipe the remote before you even know what happened. He'll take the loots and run somewhere around a corner, flatten himself on the floor & turn his head so you can't possibly see him. Yeah right! Sneaky little bugger! (Be very quiet, I'm hunting wabbit tracks.) Sometimes, if you're lucky, you saw which way he went & you can track the remote down in less than 10 minutes. Other times, it's hopeless & you might as well find something else to do until something good comes back on that channel. Or paper rock scissors for which of you will stand there pushing channel up.



Son #3 is small enough to squeeze himself into spaces you can't follow & usually manages to take SOMETHING of importance with him you want. Or another brother wants. Like a cup or food. He's tall for his age & his no problem reaching up to the table or opening the microwave to see what potential lies there for the taking. #3's super power is his cute cheeks and that beautiful little smile. Very disarming. You forget the craftiness with which he thinks & can move because you're focused on his cute, curly hair & big brown eyes! Together there's no need for words between them (good thing since neither one can talk yet) they just know which area is at a weakened state & has potential to be ripe for the picking.



Two peas in a pod. Inseperable, except at naptime.

I give you The Swaim Duo:


I'm sure there's plotting going on here.

Are You Washed?

Guests. Coming. Coming here. Tomorrow morning. My husband leaves tomorrow for his annual "guy trip. His friends are coming by to get him and that means I spend most of today cleaning. Just how I was raised. When company is coming, clean. They won't be here long, and the bathroom will be the room they see the most I imagine. However, after getting up at 4am (there's my excuse for these ramblings & deep thoughts) today and waiting on the second school bus to come, I thought I'd start the cleaning process while I still had energy.

I started dusting shelves. This is pretty monumental because I pride myself on high shelves simply so I don't have to dust often. But, one of the friends coming IS rather tall. Hence the need for dusting. After I'm done with the kitchen, I realize there are some splatters on the long wall in the kitchen. I better wipe/scrub those off. Nothing says "I never clean." like tomato sauce on the wall. As I spray the area down with cleaner & start scrubbing, I see more splatters & dirty areas further out. I keep wiping the wall. My arm hurts, my hand is cramping and I'm getting a little light headed. (this sinus stuff doesn't like it when you bend over) Surely there aren't more dirty areas...right? Man! Where did this stuff come from?! It doesn't help this wall is textured. I guess we did move in here 4 or 5 years ago. Hmmm, I don't remember cleaning it much since then. Except for the occasional, OBVIOUS splatter. Two kids in high chairs on this wall in that time. I gueeeesss I could see where it might accumulate some dirty areas in that amount of time. I'm shocked. Really. I've had people in here. Albeit very few, but still. Why hasn't anyone TOLD me how dirty this wall is!? You're right, I would have cried. Don't tell me. I keep scrubbing & scrubbing and there are just more & more areas that need to be cleaned off. Up, down, the light sockets, and plug-ins. By the time I'm done cleaning the dirty areas & splatters, the WHOLE, LONG wall received a cleaning. Wow.

While I kept scrubbing and wondering if my arm would fall off before my hand cramped up & stuck in that position, I was thinking. Life. Isn't it sort of like this giant, white, textured wall?
You go along happy & fine, living your life and then one day, there's some areas that need attention. No clue how they piled up like this. And who knows how long it took to happen. You don't really have time to look back at them ALL, just time enough to take care of a few things today. But then, once you start looking at those areas that need attention, you realize, ALL the areas sort of need a sorting out. They all tie into together to be one giant thing called LIFE.

So what if son#2 gets me up at 4am today? And that it seems to be an every other day occurrence anymore. Then there's son #1 who functions well in theory but really may need some medicine to help de-Monk-defy him so he can function with focus. The baby needs a physical therapist for his legs. We all need to see the dentist. Then there's hubbo who's making me a single parent this weekend by leaving town.

Acts 3:19 says: "Therefore repent and return, so that your sins may be wiped away, in order that times of refreshing may come from the presence of the Lord;" (New American Standard)

Frankie Says RELAX!!

After a very stressful start to school this past couple of weeks, I was more than missing my knitting because it provides an outlet for all that energy that's not allowed (legally) to be let out on things or people (i.e., school nurses).

Although the weather is cooling off today (we're down to the 90's) I doubt we'll be needing scarves, mittens & hats anytime soon. BUT, a knitted item can bring with it's love, warmth & stress relief. I got a wonderful box today in the mail from my summer exchange knitting buddy. A coaster, a knitting magazine (my favorite one!), stitche markers, chocolate and a set of matching tam & mittens! Oh and the most beautiful turquoise blue cowl!! Having started today with a migraine, I was needing this care package. It couldn't have been better timing! ThankCheryl in Maine!!! You're super talented & the thought of including some yarn for ME to play with & the extra yarn from what you knit me, well that kind of thoughtfullness is very rare. You're a sweetie & I promise to give them good homes.

Now I have relaxed by finishing up a scarf for my #1 son who loves school buses. He knows every kind of bus & it's uncanny how he can tell you from FAR away which kind it is. There are "I" buses, Carpenter buses, Thomas buses (a couple others I can't remember) and Bluebird buses which are his favorites. And he could not be happier after spending a year on a Thomas bus, to be back on a big ol' Bluebird bus this year.


Although, this isn't knit for warmth, it's defintely fun & I think he'll love it. I should felt a piece of black & cut out the Bluebird logo, but I'm lazy & need to get to more unfinished knitting, so this will have to do for now.

My friend Terry wrote the pattern for me, so watch her site for the pattern to appear in her free pattern section at the bottom.;)

End Run

(American football) an attempt to advance the ball by running around the end of the line

As football season fast approaches I'd like to teach you a term. It's called doing an end run. Say that with me, "END RUN". Good. Now, let me tell you how a mom can apply this term and it's logistics to every day life & situations.

Here we are on the third day of school. The day before school started, when I went to meet the teacher I took son#2's meds with me to show them how I administer it, what it looks like & fill out forms that I knew existed to have the school give him some of his meds this year.

This medicine is like those foam packing peanuts that dissolve in water. That means it's not that easy to cut & the dose of meds we are on right now, means we have to halve them. Also, the stupid companies that make this med only let you have the melt-tab in .5mg & 1mg doses. Therefore, for son#2's new dose of .75mg three times a day, we're slicing & dicing this bad boy.

Wednesday at school I tell the teacher we're finally at a point where son#2 will need to be given meds at school in the afternoons. She takes me in person to the nurses office for the forms to fill out. I show the nurse the pills (I've already halved & stuck back in one of the two blister packs) and how I place them in son#2's mouth/tongue. She gives me the forms, I explain about how you need a very sharp knife to halve them & I'll most likely just send them already cut.

Go home, spend the night gathering $75 in school supplies, packing their stuff up, filing out papers and making sure it's all together for the first day of school. I get an old film canister to put the meds in for son#2 & use a Sharpie to write his name on the bottle. This will be better than sending them in a ziplock since they can get crushed & then would be useless. Oh I better mention that the first day of school hubbo stayed home to take our car into to have the a/c fixed (which turned out to be done to the tune of $480) so this was already a nice hectic, fun day at our household.

I believe the first call of the 15 from the school was around 10am. Turns out according to the nurse, that you can't send already cut meds. They HAVE to cut them there in the nurses office. Oh and you HAVE to have the Rx label to be able to even GIVE the children their meds. My reaction wasn't panic, yet. I jumped into Mommy-mode, grabbed my cape and started calling the pharmacy, doctor office and back to the school nurse.

me: "I have no car today, it's in the shop. Can the pharmacy fax you the label from his medicine? They give it to me in ziplocks."

nurse: "No. It HAS to be the actual, real Rx label."

me: "Oook. And I have to send brand new pills for YOU to cut them, right?"

nurse:"Yes. And make sure the .5mg & 1mg are in the correct ziplocks respectively or I can't give them to him."

me: "Okay, I'll get back to you."

During all this time I'm receiving all these calls from the higher ups whoever they are, above the school nurse. They are sorry, they can't help it. It's all policy. They've been to court with pharmacies & this is just how it is. Wished they could help me. I run across the street to catch a neighbor off to do errands and thrust the now empty ziplocks at him. He takes them the 10 blocks to the school & drops them off.

Another call from the school...

nurse: "Once I cut these pills, I'll have to throw away the other halves because I'm not allowed to repackage them-that would make us a pharmacy. They are considered waste."

me: "Uh no.... I don't think so. Those cost a lot of money & we are only allowed so many a month. I'll walk there every day & give them to him myself if you are going to HAVE to throw them away."

nurse: "Let me see what I can come up with. I'll call ya back."

They ended up deciding they could bend the rules a little & allow the "waste" to be sent home in an envelope to us to use here. Isn't that nice of them? At 1:20pm they call me AGAIN.

nurse: "Ms Swaim? We aren't allowed to touch Carson's mouth to give him this pill."

me: "Excuse me? Didn't you WATCH me give them to him yesterday IN your office?"

nurse:"Well, yes. But..."

me: "Can you lay it on the counter for him to pick up & take then?"

nurse: "Well, not really, that's contamination. Let me call someone & ask."

me: "My husband just came home, I'm on my way there now."

I brought a spoon with me too. It was a long shot but it might work. When I got there I also asked them to lay the pill on a paper towel on the countertop. She called the higher ups again. The paper towel would be okay. But, by this time, it was WAY past son#2's time to take his meds & we were treading into the gray area of the point of no return in meltdowns.

I met his teacher in the hallway because I could HEAR him coming. The nurse runs out to meet me & says I can not give him meds in the hallway or anywhere else, ONLY IN HER OFFICE. Did I mention it's smaller than my bathroom? So off we go, I give him the meds, walk him back to the gross motor room with all the swings, fun stuff and such, to wait him out & see if the meds can kick the meltdown. It did, 30 minutes later. Did I mention that was the first day of school?

Of course the main issue was going to be that eventually there won't be any NEW blister packs for them to open. They'll just be halves, and they can't GIVE halves, so we'd have to go there every one of those days to give him his pill ourselves. I had called the doctors office when I got back home from school. They suggested bumping it up to just a 1mg at school. I was really worried he'd get too tired/sleepy with it. Luckily the pharmacist at Wal-Greens came up with an end run. Thought I'd forgotten my point didn't ya??

God bless this man! (and I do plan to make him some brownies) He called me later Friday afternoon with the idea of making up a fake bottle with a fake label on it. It'll say that son#2 can have a .5mg (one whole pill they won't have to cut) in the afternoon. Then when he gets home a couple hours later, I can give him the rest of that .75mg dose (.25mg at home) GENIUS! It might just work. Fool them with a run around the end of their line!!! I love it! I'm ready to do anything at this point. And the fact that HE thought of it & was just as frustrated as me....I really wanted to kiss that man-white bushy moustache & all.

I picked up the bottle yesterday & sent it to school today with a school weeks worth of meds in it for son#2. Of course first thing this morning, the nurse calls. I have NEW paperwork to fill out. I have her fax it to hubbo so he can jump in this redtape fiasco with me. We don't want him feeling left out do we? And of course the nurse lets me know up front, "I can't give him his meds until I have this NEW form with the NEW dose on it." Sigh! I help hubbo fill it out, we fax it back but he gets a note saying "transmission not recieved". LOVELY! I call her, nope she didn't get it. I ask for her fax number again. Write it out for hubbo....it doesn't match the one on the form she had sent to us. She'd written where to fax it back to her at, with the wrong fax number. I ask you, WHO is special needs here????

I plan to use as many end runs as I need with this school until my son (both of them) get what they need. And maybe, just maybe, this nurse will get some "special brownies" from me at Christmas. There's no doubt in my mind Paula Deen would approve. Cause ya know...Ex-Lax can look just like shaved chocolate on top.;)