Re-read this morning's entry and couldn't stop squirming and laughing at the same time: SHUT UP YOU WHINY LOSER! And, thank you, coffee.

Back to feeling like one of the luckiest people I know. Have you met my husbands, kids, friends? Have you seen my awesome house, neighborhood, town? Did you take a look at the souls in the IRL column on the left? I try very hard to keep my good fortune and the outlook that should accompany it at the front of my mind.

I am writing from the side of the pool, via my trusty laptop and wifi, while watching my two youngest bounce in our own pool. The pool is shady but the day is warm and my deck, with its garlands of pepper trees, jacaranda, and matilja poppies, is breezy and delightful. I can see Hoover Tower as I type.

Iz will join us in a minute, after she closes out an episode of The Simpsons, the viewing of which is a reward for cleaning up after Mali ferreted out and exploded a box of band aids.

This morning I had coffee with my friends and my auntie. We laughed a lot. They told me that I am a scary person to confront. I told them that I see myself as a friendly puppy. They laughed even more. Jo and JP couldn't make it, but hopefully they'll be there next week. Then again, Summer starts in two days, and all of our schedules will unfurl in unpredictable and not necessarily interlocking patterns.

Mali is throwing diveys into the pool, and Leelo is retrieving them. Leelo came over to deck Mali, I told her to run away, and she did, for the first time. Lots of praise for Mali! And no one got hit!

After coffee, I took my auntie to get our toes bespangled. Really, I should be cleaning my house and working, but it was also my last free morning of the year with any wiggle room whatsoever. My last opportunity to give into the spontaneous and the frivolous. How many people even have that choice? My toes are now blingity-bling gold. The woman who sat on the pedicure throne next to me was a dancer, with a dancer's body. As we chatted amiably, I realized with a snort that in that case, I must be a writer with a writer's body.

Iz is here now. She accepted with good humor my denial of her request to swim naked, as our neighbor's windows overlook the swimming hole.

After toes, I went to get chocolate for Badger, whose birthday I'd neglected. Ep was in the parking lot, and we chatted about the success of Merlin's school year and how much he loves his teacher. Then I retrieved the girls from their respective schools, and delivered the goods to Badger's office. While basking in the air con, we got to see both my dear Jenijen and her boss. If La Stone ever decides to hold a seminar on interpersonal skills, diplomacy, and how to make people fall in love with you instantly, I will be there.

Mali is now bundled up in a towel that she retrieved from the closet herself. Leelo got his own towel, too. Iz, who came out here on her own and who is still learning the practical aspects of self-reliance, is up the creek.

Piano practice for Iz. Her instructor gave her some sheet music to take home and copy. Its notation makes sense, but as the title is in Russian we don't yet actually know the name of the tune she's playing. It is beautiful, though.

Iz, bobbing in the pool, says she can tell how much she has grown by comparing the position of her nose to the surface of the water and her tip toes. And if I want to see something amazing, she can hold her breath underwater for a count of six.

The girls drank too much juice. They can't make it all the way home from piano practice without stopping at Jennyalice's. And only Jennyalice's. Our friend let us in for two impromptu pit stops and five minutes of back-and-forth braindumping, reminding me why I only make friends with people who kick ass.

Leelo just took off his trunks and rashie and tossed them on the side of the pool. "He's really skinnydipping now!" says Iz. Mali wants to deposit her cold wet bottom on my lap. Nyet. I tell her to examine one of the mummified lizards our cats keep stored on the back deck.

We arrive home. I could clean up the house and do laundry, or I could give into the moment and the kids' requests, and let them go swimming.

I give in.


  1. Yay! Glad you're feeling better.

    BTW - I would gladly deliver (most of) the chocolate to badger for you.

  2. Lovely to read, Squid. :):) Sounds like a near-perfect afternoon to me! Thanks for sharing.

    Love, Laura

  3. Mmmm. Swimming, kids, blingy toes. Lovely, lovely stuff.

  4. Anonymous1:32 AM

    All of the above sounds lovely. Happy to have you in my blogroll, Squidz. Sushi soon, capiche? ;)

  5. Anonymous6:54 AM

    You live in a very nice area, have a nice house, have a pool, seem to have a rotation of babysitters for your kids and you have conveyed on many occassions that you have wealthy in-laws that pay for your high end vacations and have paid for much of your child's home therapy. Do you know how many parents of kids with autism are broke and losing their homes just in an attempt to get them appropriate services? I'm sure they would refrain from whining about anything if they had half of what you have.

  6. Anonymous, that was cruel and uncalled for. Not to mention cowardly since you left no name.

    No amount of money relieves the stress of what Squid is keeping up with. And it is obvious she is appreciative of what she has.

  7. Anonymous8:51 AM

    I was just going to comment on the mixed blessing of having multiple husbands!

  8. Well, Anonymous, you sound bitter. I hope you have friends who can help you deal with that. Or a blog; they're great for purging vitriol into cyberspace and out of your heart.

    I am blessed and try to remember that, which was the point. I am also aware that others do not share my good fortune, which is why I maintain this blog -- so that we share as much of Leelo's costly learning as we can. That is also why I co-founded our local special ed PTA, to help other families and share the learning IRL as well.

    I whine about the same things other people whine about, well-funded or not. But if it bothers you that I get moany when my son beats the shit out of me or his sisters, perhaps you should read someone else's personal journal.

    I will think of you this summer as I spend a week on my in-laws' yacht with my two girls but without my husband and son, as Leelo's wealthy grandparents have specifically disinvited him from the boat on which they built berths for each one of their grandchildren.

  9. Oh, being uninvited. I cried so hard when I found out. We know what that's like.
    Bless your heart.

  10. Dear Anonymous,
    it is very human and easy to go down the road of comparing others to one's own situation. Yes, it is true that Squid has access to more cash than most us do, but that doesn't means that her life and struggle gets any easier. She still has to deal with having three kids, one of them with autism. Her blog is a chronicle of the struggle, the joy, the sadness, and the daily moods of living her life.
    You may read it because you are interested in autism, or just because you like her witty style. Most of us get to know her (some already do), and grow fonder of her as time passes entry after entry.
    My point is, the struggle and her life are very real, if you cannot go past her situation and that among many other things, she does live in a beautiful house, she does have a pool, well, don't read it.
    After it had became more and more clear that my son was not developing typically, I couldn't bare to see him perserverating at the park, next to so many beautiful typical kids. I stopped going to the park. It was not those kids fault that they were developing typically, it was me, who was going through some really tough time and had really trouble seeing the light at the end of the tunnel (btw. we happily go to the park now).

    Squid, I think you shouldn't be compelled to justify your good fortune, in the very same way that a parent of NT shouldn't apologize to us.

  11. Anonymous4:39 AM

    BE SENSITIVE. Don't judge from a distance.

    Signed, Jersey Girl
    PRESIDENT of the Squid Fan Club FOR A REASON!!!


Respectful disagreement encouraged.