Dude, 2007 has to be better than 2006. Has to. Not for us, we've been cool. But for the world in general, the U.S. and panties-deficient celebrities specifically, and extra-specifically a bunch of my friends and my dad.
My resolution is to stop being such an asshole. In general; specifically to nice people who let me get away with it; and extra-specifically to my husband, kids, and family. Remember that you read my version of my life.
Wishing you the best for 2007, hoping that you've no reason to make resolutions. But if you are so inclined, I'd love to read about them because I really am the nosiest person in the blogosphere.
I hate wrapping paper. While I appreciate the aesthetics of a beautifully wrapped gift, the paper itself is costly, ephemeral, and wasteful. I never buy it. If I do use it, it will be a salvaged piece from gifts past, and will be secured with ribbon rather than tape as taught by my good friend Ep.
I soured many a joyful Christmas present-opening by shrieking at people to please salvage their wrapping paper. This year I finally understood that most people just won't listen to a humorless ecohag at Christmastime. So I thought about the problem, and came up with a plan.
So we have a happy ending. No one hates me, and my green-leaning little heart is now satisfied--though after a week with my family and therefore no breaks for privacy whatsoever (hell for this introvert's batteries), it is still probably three sizes too small.
Holidays suck for Leelo. We are trying to do our best to give him space and run him around, and everyone in my family is doing their best to help me mind him as Seymour is working the long hours, but Leelo is still getting very frustrated by having so many people around.
So far he has assaulted every single relative who has visited, with the exception of my brother Chet's four-year-old son Patrick (thank fucking god). He hit my niece Nicole so hard that she cried--and she is an eleven year old toughie. When I sat down with her to talk about it, she said that it was okay, that Leelo didn't know what he was doing. I told her that that's not entirely true, and it certainly isn't right for him to do it, or fair for her to suck it up. I said that he might not know that he is hurting her, but her certainly knows that he is getting a big reaction out of her--and loving it. We discussed techniques for avoiding him in general and for not making a fuss if possible if he does get her. But, dude, having to have that talk with her and her same-aged stepbrother Cole really sucks.
I am having a good time with my family but my heart hurts both for our guests and for Leelo. We are used to Leelo and his ways; I can't imagine what it's like to hang out with him if you're not used to him especially during his new aggressive phase. I am grateful that Leelo forgives us as soon as everyone leaves, and become his own mostly sweet self again, and I am grateful to everyone in my family yet again for being so understanding and helpful and tolerant--especially the kids. These are not the shitty self-centered asswipe pre-teens the media would have us shun.
Today we went to the Magic Mountain playground, which was wonderful fenced and probably the best playground I've ever been to and which wore him out for a while; tomorrow we are going to the jumpy place, which I've been told by a reliable source can wear kids like Leelo out in less than an hour. Fingers crossed.
Meanwhile I am trying to figure out what unforgivable deed I did to my SIL Bree to merit Mali's receiving this gift for Xmas.
Leelo is sleeping in bed amidst a surfeit of straws, thanks to his friends Liz Ditz, Sage, Ep, and his godmother Hayley. He now gets new straws as quickly as he can ask for them, and couldn't be more content or pleased. I wonder if this had anything to do with his spontaneous and unaided use of the toilet yesterday. I hope that was a precedent!
Tonight we neither had to make the sumptuous dinner we ate nor clean up after it nor lift fingers in any way thanks to wonderful Ep's and Clyde's hosting not only us but my parents. Dude, Ep even made homemade pugliese bread. I would have wept in gratitude had I the energy--the combination of holiday overload, Seymour's new long hours, Mali and Leelo never sleeping before midnight, and all the kids' sicknesses have made me grumpy and tired and taxed. It was also very cool to watch Leelo and Merlin get really into playing chase with Merlin's dad Clyde.
Here is Leelo using the ramp that you interneteers bought for him and his buddies! Occupational Therapist K said most of her students love it as much as Leelo does. An additional, groveling-in-the-dust-on-my-belly thank you to everyone who helped out.
My friend Amy came over to babysit last night as she is still earning funds for her Sojourn Project trip. She is one of only 73 kids from Saint Matthew's County who will be participating--that is, if she can make good. Until yesterday she was too embarrassed to tell me that she still hasn't met her goal, though she has applied for financial aid to make up the difference. Crossed fingers and a sigh. She has until January 16th, so I am going to discreetly post one last small fundraiser to help her out, anything would be appreciated. Thanks. And apologies to Tamara O, Amy's generous donor who got left out of my last spazzy thank-you list.
This year I finally realized that I simply do not have the bandwidth or free time to do my usual 200+ holiday cards/newsletters/photos, and that it would not be a bad thing for my sanity or the environment to abandon such endeavors. Instead we've gone bloggy for the holidays, and were able to contact 80% of our holiday friends and family via email (or we will; I haven't finished emailing everyone and I refuse to do spam or impersonal form letters). I'm a much better--or at least more legible--correspondent via the keyboard than when wielding my mighty pen, anyhow. If anyone knows how you can track statistics in Vox, please let me know.
Supervisor M put together this excellent set of guidelines for holiday sanity-retention, and gave me permission to share it:
Tips for Your Child:
Exercise: Arrange physical activity every day, multiple times each day for some children if possible. Get to the park, take hikes, go rock climbing, check local facilities for holiday schedules for swimming. This will help reduce anxiety and stress, lessen the intensity of ritualistic or stimulatory behaviors, and improve sleep.
Provide escape options: during large gatherings, other events that may be overstimulating, provide a quiet, less-stimulating place for your child to go to, to do some calming activities (stringing beads/popcorn, quiet music, etc). Your child may need to take breaks throughout the gathering- perhaps every ½ hour. Your child may need a familiar person to go with him/her to this place, and help him/her to participate in the calming activities.
Maintain routines: Try to find multiple times throughout the day when your child can participate in parts or all of familiar routines, regardless of the changes surrounding him/her. For example, your child may need to follow his/her usual morning routine (toileting, dressing, eating breakfast) prior to holiday events such as opening gifts. While it may be an inconvenience, maintaining regular routines will likely to help your child to participate more fully in the special activities of the day- probably outweighing the inconvenience.
Maintain diet: for children who have restricted food preferences or food allergies/sensitivities, have plenty of healthful preferred and routine foods; keep sweets to a reasonable limit, and restrict chocolate and other foods with caffeine.
Photos and stories of who and what to expect: Print out some photos of the people your child will see, and photos or icons of the activities that will occur, and the places you will go. There are different ways to use these: prior to the holidays, to talk about things in advance; on the day of the event as picture schedule cards- to let your child know what is happening now and later (e.g. “first…then”, or as a schedule with multiple pictures); as a social story, with text. You can put these together as a holiday book, or keep them on a ring, or Velcro them to a picture schedule board. Try taking more photos this year, to be used in the future, or in a memory book, to facilitate communication with you and others about the holidays.
Role play/video models in advance: practice some situations before the actual event: opening presents, trimming a tree, greetings and thank you’s, singing traditional songs, traveling by plane/train, staying in hotel, etc.
Tips for You:
Stay calm: Easier said than done. 20 seconds of deep breathing throughout the day is a good place to start. Alternatively, recite a poem:
I have always known That at last I would Take this road, but yesterday I did not know that it would be today.
Or, more cynically:
I may live on until I live for this time In which I am so unhappy And remember it fondly.
Japanese, Fujiwara No Kiyosuke
Get some exercise: This is as important for you as it is for your child. If nothing else, get out and take a short walk in the fresh air. Better yet, go for a swim, play racquetball, take a bike ride, try rock climbing (some places will let your child climb too…)
Get a babysitter: Be sure to go do something to remind yourself of the other wonderful parts of your identity- your relationship with your partner, your appreciation of the arts or fine cuisine, your athleticism, your passion for Bloomingdales… Do NOT spend this time on line checking autism links…
Lower your bar: temporarily lower your standards for non-essential tasks; ask yourself where there is room for mess, and let it go this week; let someone else load the dishwasher or fold the laundry.
Ask for support and help: It can be especially difficult to delegate responsibilities to others, especially if you are hosting, and if you are the parent of a child with very specific needs. Still, sharing responsibilities will reduce your own stress, and help you to be more effective in the jobs you are doing. Be clear and specific in your requests, and in your appreciation.
Don’t apologize: There are bound to be some negative comments about your child’s behavior; even your closest relatives may be surprised or overwhelmed to learn how children with autism may respond to such intense changes in routine as occur on the holidays. Try responding to a negative comment either by explaining your child’s experience of the event from his/her perspective. (See attached letter). Alternately, sometimes a deep breath is as good a response in a moment of tension.
Ep and I went to see Jo today and brought her a big stack of comic books, which she said was about her current speed. Buffy, Finder: Talisman, Y: The Last Man, etc. She was nose-deep in Wonder Woman vs. Batman when we left.
Her dad had arrived from his blizzard-beating trek from Colorado moments before we got there. She seemed relieved to have him around. I was relieved to see him, he was giving her gentle grief and being very lively and cheery.
She is GRUMPY because she wants to eat and her doctor hasn't gotten back to her nurses with the go-ahead for anything non-popsickly, gelatinous, or brothy. She says she never wants to see any of those fucking food types again as long as she lives (which, thanks to the results from her surgery will be a LONG TIME). I am going to call her tomorrow morning and see if she's gotten the green light for solids, at which time we will sneak in some chilaquiles from The Cafe.
The hospital has wireless in the lobby but not in the patients' rooms. So, she doesn't see the point in having her computer and is staying in the pen-and-paper analog world for now.
She does seem good, vicodin'd up though she is. Lovely Jo.
This is the model of the home we're hoping to build this year, once we've finished playing whack-a-mole with the fine folks down at the county. The video, created by our architects at A r k i n T i l t at the PGyE Heliodon, demonstrates what kind of sunlight we'll have in our yard over the course of a typical Spring equinox day. This helps them fine-tune our rooftop solar hot water and electricity arrays, as well as the passive lighting and heating/cooling inside the house.
We thought we were getting close to contsruction-land, or at least design-review-land. The latter is the public meeting at which some more fine folks from the county get together and tell us that they don't like our eco- and neighbor-friendly house design and that we need to revise it to incorporate stacked slate rock facing, wooden shingly exterior siding, and those fucking copper pyramid fence post toppers.
This morning I had what we imagined was my one last meeting with the local CDF (county fire) folks to get their sign-off on the project. But then, lo! Look what he had to say via my meeting notes, below! It may be months, yet again, before we get to go for design review. This would be more irritating if I wasn't so overwhelmed that I currently care about very little beyond Jo's health and whether or not my kids remember to wear shoes when they go to school each morning.
Hi, Architects who thought we were submitting our final docs for design review tomorrow! Here are some Notes From On-Site Meeting With CS, Fire Dept Guy!
The good news is that CS thinks our project should be a "slam dunk." He doesn't see any problems with it, provided we follow his suggested guidelines. He ran the project by his boss as well, who agrees that the project is very doable from their perspective.
The bad news is that we need to modify our plans to include an extension of the hydrant line, and a new hydrant within our property, as our house is more than 250 ft (~350 ft) from the nearest hydrant. We also need to widen the bottom half of the driveway to 12'. We can't go for design review until our plans have been both modified accordingly and then reviewed and approved by either CS or his boss, both of whom are quite backlogged with the retirement of the Sexist Bastard/FIre Marshall and the acquiring of another district to manage. Expect delays, he said.
Here are the specifics:
-We need to extend the hydrant line, as with the current distance and in the case of a fire only one truck will be able to assist us--and because of the distance limitations, it will be stuck in the driveway, blocking any other emergency vehicles. This is rather chilling news for those of us who actually live in this house.
-He recommended that we remove the pillars flanking the driveway halfway up and place a hydrant there. We'll need to contact CS or his boss for specific hydrant requirements/dimensions.
-If we extend the hydrant line, then there will be no problem having a 12' wide driveway instead of a 20' one. The 20' requirements are so that trucks can pass each other in the driveway. The hydrant extension will "mitigate the driveway width requirements."
-We need to widen the lower half of the driveway to 12'. Right now it is 10' 6" at the pillars. Shouldn't be an engineering problem on the northern neighbor's side, but we'll need to check the survey to determine exact property lines.
-Apparently the Will Serve letter I extracted from Deadwood City Water only guarantees meter service, not water service. Once we've planned for the hydrant extension, I'll need to get another letter from Deadwood City Water guaranteeing not only meter service but water delivery. However this means we won't need to arrange the separate meeting with CDF and Deadwood City Water to determine hydrant flow, so we'll save $171 there...
-Please make sure the parking spaces are removed from the fire truck turnaround.
-Fire resistant siding is highly recommended in this high-risk fire area, especially as our house's location is in the path of least resistance should a firestorm erupt in WoodEdge Preserve. If our planned siding is fire resistant then we should indicate that.
Please call or write if you have any additional questions.
Yeah, those autistic kids--no eye contact, no interaction, no joy, no laughter. Pshaw! Look at what a great time we're having, and specifically how gleefully happy Leelo is. (Sorry about the low video quality.)
Here he is stopping briefly to flash me a dazzling smile with full eye contact. Handsome boy!
Last night Leelo was up past 12:30AM, including a bath-caliber shitstorm. I'd had a long day and so spent the next hour decompressing via volume 5 of Y: The Last Man. Mali then woke up at 2:30 AM with croup so intense and breathing so labored that the on-call nurse had me take her to the ER immediately.
And you know what? We're all just fine. I have a partner with whom to share the child-rearing drudge work. Last night's exertions meant that Leelo went to sleep earlier tonight (10:30). We live five minutes from a pleasant suburban ER where Mali was the only patient, the staff was cheerful and kind, and the treatment was immediate and eventually effective. There were a couple of nasty hours at the ER when Mali's symptoms just wouldn't abate, but then at 5:30 AM she sat bolt upright up and babbled like a stand-up comic about her dad's possible locations, doing spot-on Noo-Noo imitations, and accusing the ER doctor of not being her pal Dr. M (true enough). We were discharged less than an hour later.
I approved of NAAR's research-heavy approach into determining the causes of autism and mapping the autistic brain. I am not a fan of Autism Speaks, or their campaign of negativity and fear and "getting back our stolen children," when in fact my son is snoring gently in the next room. While I do agree with their message that autism can be really fucking hard for both autistics and their families, I resent their message that people like my wonderfully silly and affectionate son are nothing but a burden or a puzzle. Also, they do not seem to have any awareness of crackly-smart, content autistics who aren't looking for a cure.
I am looking for a new autism organization to which I can donate the funds from the Friends of Leelo t-shirts and gear. My ideal agency, which I've not yet found, will combine a positive attitude with autism advocacy, support, education, research, and awareness. I would be grateful for any recommendations.
Each and every sentence below deserves its own thoughtful entry. However I am slapped for time and memorable memories are sliding out of the back of my brain and it's just going to have to be shorthand. Welcome to the perfunctory side of my personal journal.
Iz spent today sleeping and then barfing, so I didn't get to go to today's Special Ed PTA-district Special Ed director meeting with Ep, Sage, and co.
Leelo and Iz have started playing together for real, with Iz giving her brother "rides" on her back. It is very cute. Mali trucks around after them like the neglected puppy that she is.
What is not so great is that Iz has entered a phase of really wanting everyone's approval, and it is manifesting in troublesome ways such as thinking that we don't want her to defend herself from Leelo's occasional attacks. I told her that she is absolutely not to let him think that hitting and scratching and hair pulling are okay, but that she has to tell him so in a regular firm voice and with language that he understands. Before she was shrieking and yowling, a reaction that Leelo loved. I am worried that she's taking on characteristics of a typical special needs sibling who tries to be too nice, and too good.
But she's still Iz. Witness the magenta hair below, which was selected after hours of perusing the Amphigory website on SJ's recommendation. Magenta! At least four of her friends and one cousin are begging to follow suit.
She is an awesome, awesome kid. Right now she is reading The Hobbit and A Wrinkle in Time. Her teachers find her both exhilarating and exasperating. They said that she is one of the most interesting kids they've ever had, and that they're never bored. She begged me to make her shirts that say, "I didn't do nothing," and when I pointed out the bad grammar, shot back that it was intentionally so because it was actually copping to any acts it appeared to deny. She won first place in a poetry slam at her school, and that was out of kids through 5th grade. She still believes in Santa. She wants me to further explain the Republican conspiracy that robbed Jimmy Carter of a second term in office. She is alternately clingy and hateful. She wants a stupid fucking digi-makeover thing for Xmas. She is far more sheltered than I was at age seven.
Leelo is in an odd space, yet again. He is snuggly and so fun, we are having a great time singing with arm movements, chasing each other around the house, doing a lot of truly engaged physical and verbal play. But he can still snap and change at any time and beat the bejesus out of the nearest person. Every time he nears Mali she flinches or ducks. I am considering setting up a pool as to when he is going to accidentally break my nose. He loves kisses and massages and asks for back scratches, a lot.
I think his medication might be on the wane, in terms of effectiveness. He is having a really hard time latching himself into his car seat, which he was doing with alarcrity just a few weeks ago. He is having a hard time focusing enough to put on his shoes. He has had two pee accidents at school during the last two weeks, after several weeks with no accidents whatsoever. Perhaps it's just our usual shitty Leelo winter behavior that cycles through every year.
I am going to try to mediate just how fucking crazy he will be during Xmas by scheduling our week tightly, and rearranging the house so that Leelo has a space of his own to retreat to. Did I mention that my entire family (minus one brother) is coming to my house for Xmas? It would be fine if our house was larger. I am worried that Leelo will be overstimulated and miserable, and will act out.
I haven't done much Xmas shopping or communications, yet. I've done some organizing. I have almost 200 good friends and families to connect with, so I guess I'd best get cooking.
Anyhow. More good Leelo stuff. We had a family day two weeks ago where we went to the ever-so-excellent Fungus Fair at the Oakland Museum (a worthy place to visit, especially when their annual, incredible, Dia de los Muertos exhibit is on). We took BART (the subway/train) and Leelo just absolutely loved it. The picture below doesn't do his excitement justice at all:
Also we just got the school district approval to pay for both Supervisor M and Therapist L. Those of you who've done the IEP circuit don't need to rub your eyes or smack the side of your heads, you read that correctly. The school district is paying for all of Leelo's home program. He also has a full-time aide at school. We are very fortunate. I still find it hard to believe our sweet Leelo is such a challenging kid that he gets all these services without question. But services are good, the people who are giving them are good, we got to keep our own program, good good good. I still find it more than odd to have regular meetings with between three and thirteen people to talk about my six-year-old son.
Mali Mali Mali. Well, she started at Iron Gate two weeks ago, which means I started, too. I'd forgotten what a privilege it is to wipe shit off other peoples' kids' bottoms. She is having some separation anxiety, but is seems to decrease geometrically each school day.
Mali had a great birthday party on 11/26. She blew out her own candle and was so pleased with the roars and applause afterwards. The party itself got rained on which meant everyone and their kids were inside our small home which made for a bit of close-quarters insanity, but overall I think it was fun. None of our three kids' fall/winter birthdays have every been rained out before, so we were due. (FYI, people from elsewhere, California's climate is one of cold-weather rain. We get no rain during the summer.)
Leelo had his own spectacular birthday that I still haven't written about until now. We had it at a gym whose multi-story and totally enclosed play structure couldn't have been better designed for autistic children. (With twenty young partygoers, though, it was overwhelming for some of Leelo's eight friends on or near the spectrum.) The best parts for me were hearing Leelo's normally shy friends whooping and giggling like any other kid at a party, watching how excited Leelo got when everyone sang him happy birthday--twice, and Ep's Dust Bunny cupcakes that she made to go with my Totoro cake.
That's about it for now. My brain has been downloaded and now I can focus on positioning Iz's barf bowl correctly, and whether or not I should make mix CDs as holiday gifts this year. Regardless, I am going to be Frantic Girl for the remainder of the weekend.
All Leelo wants right now is a straw. And then another straw. And then he'll remember that straw he had yesterday and which he fidgeted with and twisted and chewed on all day and which somehow survived--thereby proving that it was THE BEST STRAW. And then he'll remember that THE BEST STRAW got subjected to the critical test for all things beloved by Leelo: object permanence. If he throws THE BEST STRAW behind the washer or under the deck, will it really be gone? Yes, it will! Please stand by for All Hell Breaking Loose.
People have asked what they should get Leelo for Xmas, and I have replied in all sincerity that he'd be happiest with a box of nice strong straws--and please don't bother with those flimsy crappy clear ones that don't give nearly enough sensory feedback. A box of straws would be a vicarious gift for me, too, as I wouldn't mind a reprieve from my current role as the local restaurants' Straw Beggar and Thief.
The straws at Tuesday Night Sushi are no longer sufficient for our boy. He spends most of our meal agitating for the "pink straw pink straw pink straw!" available at the Sushi-adjacent ice cream store, but I have taken advantage enough of that shop owner's good nature and won't go in unless we're buying something. The CalTrain that runs outside the restaurant window used to keep Leelo engaged, but no longer--his interests and sensory needs are changing. Sushi no longer has anything to offer Leelo--plus it is too loud and overwhelming for him--so Jo and I have decided to relocate our Tuesday night dinners to Sewerage (Indian). Changing locations also means I won't need to relive Leelo's bolting out of the restaurant and into oncoming traffic right each time I look out the window--Sewerage has no windows. Most importantly, Leelo likes Sewerage and he knows that he'll get bottomless baskets of naan there.
Of course, now that Jo is waiting to find out just how serious her condition is, Tuesdays will be on hold for a while anyhow. I just can't believe that Jo is sick on top of everything else in her life. So many dear people I know, including my Dad, are so very sick or in such fucked-up situations at the moment. I keep thinking each shitbomb will be the last straw, but apparently the Powers-that-Be shop at Costco and have a box of straws the likes of which Leelo can only dream.
As cute as my little bugger is, she is five chunky, clunky, bouncy little steps away from being put in a basket and hung from the tallest tree in our yard. I can't take the no-sleepy for much longer, even with Seymour and me trading off nights coaxing Mali to sleep. Even though the last thing she says as she snuggles into my shoulder after 30+ minutes of flailing in the dark next to me is, "Mommy loves me." Even though she's this darling:
It has been six years since I've dealt with a typical two-year-old, and four years since Leelo turned two--but since Leelo is really only now showing features of this gleefully defiant, not quite articulate stage, I'm already very much over thinking tantrums are amusing. I will try to be chipper and avoid being too flinty with her, and will hope that she continues to entertain me. She'd better keep doing shit like this:
(Going on the Freeway, without being told where we're going, and being correct) "Mama! We're going to see Dr. M, Mama!"
(As the Dr. appointment is ending, unprompted, and to Dr. M's delight) "Bye bye, Dr. M! See you later"
(After being left out of too many sessions of Iz's hide-and-seek game, even though hyper-observant Mali is better at finding hiders than her non-observant sister) "1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9 ... 15 ... I'm counting! Ready or not, here I come!"
And I've forgotten a bunch more but you get the picture. Today she even announced, "I'm tired, Mama," which hopefully means she's getting a greater sense of her sleep needs. Hopefully those needs will start meshing better with those of her loving but very tired parents.
Tomorrow night is the annual Iron Gate silent auction, the primary fundraiser for Mali's co-op nursery school. All IG families are encouraged to donate something, so I'm offering up two items: a cheese platter with knives and wine delivered to the winner's door, and a custom-made coloring book like the one I made for Leelo's birthday (including 20 copies). Hopefully no one will bid on either of my items. I have priced them stratospherically, just to see if the auction fairies will grant my wish to FLAKE OUT.
I wouldn't mind flaking on tonight's three-hour setup session (mandatory), either. My life of late is exhausting me (grumpy, hitty Leelo who doesn't sleep, no-sleepy-as-well Mali) and I won't really be able to fake the enthusiasm required to decorate shit festively. I am thinking of reaching into the very bottom of my bag of tricks and pretending to be sick while I'm at the set up "party" and then making myself barf in the toilet. Like many a SoCal refugee, I have dabbled in eating disorders--and while I haven't used the vomit ticket in years, I'm sure it's like riding an ipecac-coated bicycle.
As you may be able to tell, I am desperate to get out of tonight and tomorrow nights' gigs. This will most assuredly be our family's last year at Iron Gate. Once I've experienced what one year at a co-op with a typical kid is like, I'll know all I need to know and will give notice. Mali can go to Teacher Anarchy's school next year, and I will redirect all that Iron Gate energy to working with my ass-kicking friends on setting up a local Special Ed PTA to help support our kids as well as other local SpEd families. We've already nominated Sage as president!
Addendum: Please note that I do not actually flake on commitments. What I need to do is sign up for fewer things in the first place. Perhaps I can carry a large hammer in my pack so as to threaten myself with pseudo-trepanation each time I think, "Surely I can squeeze in one more task set..."
The little things, they don't bug me like they used to. People who are late for non-critical meetups? Whatever, I always have a book or screaming child with which to amuse myself until they arrive. Misunderstandings? My episodes of sputtering rationalizations and excuses are fewer--I'm tired and would rather apologize and move on.
Forget to cite me? Fuck you; we're done. My discoveries are limited and precious, and when they are passed off as someone else's find--no matter the intention or the enthusiasm--it really stings. I wish I wasn't so petty, and that I craved no social currency other than my sparkling self. I'm working on it. For now I merely wish that people would remember to say where that cool link, or book, or doohickey that was dropped down the back of their drawers came from.
Look, I can't ever really be sincere. If I ever even approach being so, then one of my brothers will find out about it and give me endless shit. Sincerity equals vulnerability, so self-expression both requires careful phrasing and mandates jovial self-deprecation.
This means today's post is skittering over some thin ice indeed. It is my attempt at some happy top-shelf Hallmark hooch--to remind myself that even though the last two weeks have been shockingly shitful, I have many reasons to be grateful:
Jenijen, Kris R., and Amy F. Your contributions to (the other) Amy's Sojourn Project fund helped me raise more than $900. And it was okay not to hit the mark as I got to contribute a small amount.
Having a kid like Iz, who writes signs like the one below and posts them on her door. Such a wonderful little geeklet. Today she demanded to know why she can't read Tess of the D'Urbervilles, because after all I did say that it was a great read. (Not to her, though. She was eavesdropping.)
Leelo's continued progress despite something seriously tweaked going on in his his brain or body. Today he looked at a burned-out bulb and declared, "The light is broken!" That is a new expression. That it was followed by five frantic minutes of, "Fix the light! Fix the light!" was also okay, as we happened to have replacement bulbs onsite, and the latter is also is a new expression.
Mali's suddenly and with great sass becoming truly conversational:
"Mama, what do you think?"
"I think you are very cute but that you should go to bed.
Seymour of course. I want him to take some sort of break soon, though.
I only cried once today! That was after Leelo ran out in front of a moving car for the second time in less than 24 hours.
I don't even know why I'm posting this really, drier than ship's biscuit as it is. Perhaps I'm just even more tired than you are of all the beseeching posts of late that have little to do with me or my family. I want to get back to what this space is supposed to sport.
I wonder if anyone at last night's Iron Gate parent ed meeting witnessed my face going completely WTF.
I had little enough patience for their "respect your child and get on your child's level" chat after a day in which my main parenting concern was preventing Leelo from seriously injuring his sisters and himself (aww, the boy's first drop-and-bolt into oncoming traffic!), but really lost control of any facade when another parent made a blatantly and most likely ignorantly hostile statement about another, new mom (A.), who wasn't present.
The issue is that A.'s son doesn't speak English yet, so A. has been staying with him in his brand new all-freeplay class and talking to him the entire time in both English and a language which is Not English (which language, it doesn't matter). I am guessing that, like so many other parents of first-born two-year-old children, A. is doing her best to help him transition to a new environment, and away from her.
I have always thought that what we say to our own children is our own business, even if other people are nearby. But apparently the ignorantly hostile mom doesn't agree, to the extent that she was comfortable telling a group of parents (including other families whose primary language is not English) that she "felt very uncomfortable around A. and thinks she should translate what she is saying to her son."
I told the ignorantly hostile mom that if she wanted to know what A. was saying, she could ask her. But the rest of the class didn't say anything, except G.--also a non-primarily-English-speaking mom--who apologized to the class for not speaking in English to her son around them! GAAAAAH!
If the offending mom had been two years old we would have told her that there was a nicer way to express her feelings. I am worried that the class is not being very welcoming to A.'s family. I have written to both G. (to tell her that her apology was not necessary) and to the teacher to express my concerns, do-gooder liberal fuckface muckracker that I am.
Yesterday was a grueling, nasty, and brutal Leelo day. Today I'm both grateful and stressed that my son has gone off to school, am nursing a bit of PTSD after yesterday's non-stop cavalcade of punches and kicks, and am also worrying what will happen if Leelo continues to go through aggressive pushing and hitting phases as he gets bigger and stronger.
So far, both online and IRL the fund stands at $650, which is mind-boggling and incredible. It would be so lovely if we could raise another $250. If you can carve out any portion of your holiday gifting--no matter the amount--and redirect it her way, you will have done a very good deed indeed.
What a Black Thong on a Pasty White Butt Looks Like
I do not wear thong-style drawers because they I like the way they look. I wear them because they are comfortable, and because--once pants go on top--they avoid making my butt look like it got embossed with underwear.
I have yet to explain this to Mali, however. She was with me while I was changing into my sleepwear, spied my thong-adorned behind from, well, behind, and declared, "Mommy's got poo-poo!"
Full disclosure: I told Amy that I would try to raise $1000 total for her Sojourn Project trip, but didn't want to be greedy on this blog since I recently asked for so much. I have had some very generous donations from my church, but not enough of them.
So what the hell. I'm trying for another $400 by December 6th. If we make it, fantastico. If not, Amy will be doing a few less backflips. As Badger mentioned in the comments, Amy has been working like an adult since she was thirteen and really deserves this trip.
Amy is an amazing young woman who will truly appreciate this opportunity. If you donate ten or more dollars and send me your address, I'll send you a Mix CD or a Leelo or Mali book or some stickers from Ghana or Japan...
This is the letter that went out to my local Unitarian congregation:
Like many of you, our family has decided to focus on the kind of holiday giving that makes a real difference. If you feel the same way, then consider the following opportunity:
My friend Amy Sandia is sixteen years old, and is a junior at Deadwood High School. She "has a dream," which is to go on a ten-day Sojourn Project journey (www.sojournproject.com) that will retrace the steps of the American civil rights movement in the 50's and 60's. I can only hope that my own children will show such a fierce interest in history and humanity when they reach her age.
Amy is a wonderful girl, from a wonderful family, but unfortunately her family cannot afford to pay for all of the trip's expenses. Amy has been doing quite a lot of fundraising, but has not yet reached her goal. The payment deadline of December 7th is looming.
If you are looking for a way to make a concrete difference in a local life--and to help groom the next generation of social activists--then please consider making a donation towards Amy's trip. It will make a lovely holiday gift in the name of your favorite historically savvy liberal.