As I Run Screaming
My brain imploded on Friday afternoon. The outward symptoms were my grabbing the kids and running, silently howling, from an afternoon playdate at the park.
I bolted because I collapsed under the stress of tiredness, sadness, and self-pity. Fucking pathetic, but true.
The traveling, parent-hosting, and Leelo wee hours fiestas of the past few weeks have decimated my mental and physical energy. Example: I had two much-appreciated dinner dates with my book this week, and both times fell asleep in the middle of my meal. (Upon hearing of the second incident, Iz chirped, "Did you drop your book in the sauce again?")
I am wiped. Verging on narcoleptic. Afraid to sit on comfy couches in the afternoon. Bobble-heading during sermons as provocative and mind-routing as this morning's electric riff on racism.
Part of my problem is the gestating; the rest of it will wear off as I wedge myself back into a routine. But in the meantime I am weak, small, and unable to bear daily petty lamenesses.
Like those of a random mom at the park from which I fled. Not our regular park, no--a park in Santa Carlotta. A town whose borders I rarely breach, because I hate its pod people majority, their oppressive manicured brittle-cheerfulness, and the delusional, self-righteous bubbles of small-scale privilege in which they encase themselves.
Back to the random mom. In my opinion, it is perfectly acceptable for strangers like her to pinch-hit parent for Iz if I'm not available. But there are tacit rules. The main ones being, again in my opinion, that a person does so using a nice but firm voice, and avoids making snap judgments when information is lacking.
I'm sure that bitch was tired from dealing with both an infant and her whiny baby monkey of a daughter. But that does not excuse her from jumping all over Iz in snarky vengeance mode just because Iz happened to be at the top of a ladder when her daughter decided, after several minutes of wailing and hanging off the side of said ladder, that she wanted to go up and couldn't because Iz was standing there.
This was a rare instance in which I was actually watching Iz the whole time, as Leelo was stuck in a loop, obsessively running back and forth across a jangly suspension bridge (whiny baby monkey: "It's too loud! Mommy! MOMMMMY!") and didn't need all my attention. So I knew that bitch had no right to yell at my kid. But, as Iz didn't seem particularly offended, I didn't lash back--that's not our best playground behavior. Instead I inched closer to my mental precipice.
Then I stepped off. I spiraled. I wondered what the fuck I was doing at the park after already running the kids through several play time hoops that same afternoon. I got pissy about being Leelo's mom, about never, ever, ever being able to take my eyes off him in public places, and how fucked it is that this won't change for a good long time--certainly not by the time this new baby arrives. I brooded about unfair it is to everyone else that I can't properly watch Iz 90% of the time if Leelo is around. I whined to myself about how desperately I wanted to be like all the other parents and plop my butt on a bench instead of running or standing the whole time (this is not entirely fair, but I was not entirely rational).
Then Iz made a minor transgression and I flipped and used that as an excuse and we left. And now you know why.
---
Iz herself is mostly okay with losing her great-grandmother. I told her a few days ago when we were behind our garage picking blackberries, basically saying that her GG unfortunately didn't get better, and instead died, and that meant that we wouldn't get to see her any more. Iz sobbed and sobbed and sobbed, then sniffed, then asked where her GG's headstone was. I told her that her GG was getting cremated, which fascinated her and made for an distracting tangent.
Iz still stops every now and then, remembers that her GG's gone, and gets weepy. Just now she called me into her room to wind up the musical bear her GG gave her. She says she wants to hear the music play for a long time so she can think about her GG, and feel better.
I think we are all feeling better today. Iz and Seymour had a fabulous time at last night's Casa Ocultada Star Party, and spent all morning chattering about the relative sizes of stellar bodies. I somehow manage to conjure up a delicious trifle, and we got to devour it during a lazy-dazy foodie-crazy afternoon at KV and PV's house. Leelo had been refusing to use "yes" for preferences yesterday, but today is back to using it correctly so I am no longer spazzing on that issue (it must have been the concentrated dairy in that yogurt he loves so! Aiiigh!).
Everything seems to have realigned.
P.S. The Leelo's Day article hasn't run yet. Maybe it'll be in tomorrow's (Monday's) paper. My OB checkup was peachy and all of five minutes long. And my ultrasound won't happen for another week because I need a referral from the HMO.
7.18.2004
7.16.2004
Cephalopod Fashion Advice
Take my advice, ladies. If you are short, stacked, and pregnant, all patterned dresses will make you look like an overstuffed throw pillow. Don't bother. Dark tops and all the patterned bottoms you want, sure, but dresses need to be solid colored, and preferably dark. The one exception might be an excellent wrap dress Dee sent me--it looked good six weeks ago.
Also, whoever put that shmancy maternity shop on Santa Ana Row next to a frickin' Ben & Jerrry's is pure evil. Cackling, rubbing-hands, "My dastardly plan has worked!"-style evil. Bastard.
I can really only laugh at my body from this point on. I don't have anything resembling a cute little bump. Instead, my entire abdominal cavity, from my diaphragm down, is steadily inflating. My charming daughter told me yesterday that, because my top half is so big, wearing shorts makes me look silly.
The Leelo's Day article was not in today's paper. Tomorrow, then. Also, the online edition of the paper is not fully functional, e.g., their last published online edition is for July 6. I may end up scanning the article instead. Depends on how big it is. Or, as Badger noted, whether or not it pisses me off.
Leelo himself is having a fantastic day. His OT therapist reported that this morning's session was fully of appropriate listening and responses, and spontaneous requests.
Then she told me that she'd be moving out of the area next month. God fucking damn it! This is the second OT defection in six months!
Right. I'm off to my 20-week OB checkup. Where they'll schedule me for my level two ultrasound, and hopefully won't have saved any horrible AFP test results to tell me in person.
Take my advice, ladies. If you are short, stacked, and pregnant, all patterned dresses will make you look like an overstuffed throw pillow. Don't bother. Dark tops and all the patterned bottoms you want, sure, but dresses need to be solid colored, and preferably dark. The one exception might be an excellent wrap dress Dee sent me--it looked good six weeks ago.
Also, whoever put that shmancy maternity shop on Santa Ana Row next to a frickin' Ben & Jerrry's is pure evil. Cackling, rubbing-hands, "My dastardly plan has worked!"-style evil. Bastard.
I can really only laugh at my body from this point on. I don't have anything resembling a cute little bump. Instead, my entire abdominal cavity, from my diaphragm down, is steadily inflating. My charming daughter told me yesterday that, because my top half is so big, wearing shorts makes me look silly.
The Leelo's Day article was not in today's paper. Tomorrow, then. Also, the online edition of the paper is not fully functional, e.g., their last published online edition is for July 6. I may end up scanning the article instead. Depends on how big it is. Or, as Badger noted, whether or not it pisses me off.
Leelo himself is having a fantastic day. His OT therapist reported that this morning's session was fully of appropriate listening and responses, and spontaneous requests.
Then she told me that she'd be moving out of the area next month. God fucking damn it! This is the second OT defection in six months!
Right. I'm off to my 20-week OB checkup. Where they'll schedule me for my level two ultrasound, and hopefully won't have saved any horrible AFP test results to tell me in person.
7.15.2004
What Is Leelo's Day?
Apologies, I forgot that some of you don't live in my brain, house, or neighborhood.
Last October, a professional photographer friend (discount!) of ours spent an entire day following Leelo around. His goal was to document a typical day in our boy's life. He did the same thing for Iz two years ago. The resulting photos are gorgeous, in both cases.
I am trying to help this same friend to get this part of his business revving, and so arranged for him to have a showing of his Leelo's Day photographs at the local cafe. The show will run through the end of this month.
Because Leelo is autistic, and because the photographer has a friend in PR who was willing to do him a favor, this show attracted the attention of a local newspaper. The article will run tomorrow or Saturday.
And that's about it.
Apologies, I forgot that some of you don't live in my brain, house, or neighborhood.
Last October, a professional photographer friend (discount!) of ours spent an entire day following Leelo around. His goal was to document a typical day in our boy's life. He did the same thing for Iz two years ago. The resulting photos are gorgeous, in both cases.
I am trying to help this same friend to get this part of his business revving, and so arranged for him to have a showing of his Leelo's Day photographs at the local cafe. The show will run through the end of this month.
Because Leelo is autistic, and because the photographer has a friend in PR who was willing to do him a favor, this show attracted the attention of a local newspaper. The article will run tomorrow or Saturday.
And that's about it.
Ungratefully Gleeful
My parents, much as I love them, are gone gone gone! Hurrah! Now it's just me, Leelo, and the therapists, which means I could, in theory, hide downstairs and do whatever I like all morning. As long as the buzzing's not too loud. From my electric toothbrush, natch. Heh.
Off to coffee and much gossip.
My parents, much as I love them, are gone gone gone! Hurrah! Now it's just me, Leelo, and the therapists, which means I could, in theory, hide downstairs and do whatever I like all morning. As long as the buzzing's not too loud. From my electric toothbrush, natch. Heh.
Off to coffee and much gossip.
7.14.2004
What to Do, What to Do
We haven't told Iz about her great-grandmother's dying yet. Aside from goldfishies and plants, this will be her first experience with Death, and I'm not sure how to handle it. But I suspect we'd better hurry, as we're going to have a picnic dinner at the park with her cousins Danielle and Elise, and I just got an email from their grandmother, saying how sorry she is for our loss--and that Danielle was the one who told her.
As for our other child, he knows who his GG is, but the concept of death means nothing to him. I guess we'll tell him anyhow.
Speaking of Leelo, his photo exhibit is fantastic. Damn, our boy is cute! The photos are beautifully mounted and just the right size. I hope Seymour, Iz, and Therapist L don't mind that JM didn't select their pictures. JM ended up writing up his own take on the photos and what they meant, and expressed himself so touchingly that my he got my mom to cry.
I am on my way back over to the cafe right now. JM's publicist friend arranged for a Leelo's Day article in the San Mattteo Times, and the reporter wants to interview me. Hokay...maybe the paper hasn't run an autism article recently, and they need to meet their quarterly quota. Whatever. If it helps JM's photography business and helps spread the good word about ABA therapy, then I'm happy to be their dancing monkey.
The reporter also wants to get a photo of Leelo at the exhibit. I hope her photographer has lots of patience.
We haven't told Iz about her great-grandmother's dying yet. Aside from goldfishies and plants, this will be her first experience with Death, and I'm not sure how to handle it. But I suspect we'd better hurry, as we're going to have a picnic dinner at the park with her cousins Danielle and Elise, and I just got an email from their grandmother, saying how sorry she is for our loss--and that Danielle was the one who told her.
As for our other child, he knows who his GG is, but the concept of death means nothing to him. I guess we'll tell him anyhow.
Speaking of Leelo, his photo exhibit is fantastic. Damn, our boy is cute! The photos are beautifully mounted and just the right size. I hope Seymour, Iz, and Therapist L don't mind that JM didn't select their pictures. JM ended up writing up his own take on the photos and what they meant, and expressed himself so touchingly that my he got my mom to cry.
I am on my way back over to the cafe right now. JM's publicist friend arranged for a Leelo's Day article in the San Mattteo Times, and the reporter wants to interview me. Hokay...maybe the paper hasn't run an autism article recently, and they need to meet their quarterly quota. Whatever. If it helps JM's photography business and helps spread the good word about ABA therapy, then I'm happy to be their dancing monkey.
The reporter also wants to get a photo of Leelo at the exhibit. I hope her photographer has lots of patience.
7.13.2004
So Long, Farewell
Seymour's grandmother was a lively, ass-kicking, independent spirit, and we were lucky to know her. I hope that, like she did, we all live to see age 90, while still driving our own cars, using our own ears, legs, and eyes, and never seeing the need to play the part of the sugary-sweet old lady. She amazed us all.
She had just bought the house next to Seymour's parents' place, and had been looking forward to having her great-grandaughters Iz and Leigh over for sleepovers. Big sigh.
We will all miss her greatly.
Seymour's grandmother was a lively, ass-kicking, independent spirit, and we were lucky to know her. I hope that, like she did, we all live to see age 90, while still driving our own cars, using our own ears, legs, and eyes, and never seeing the need to play the part of the sugary-sweet old lady. She amazed us all.
She had just bought the house next to Seymour's parents' place, and had been looking forward to having her great-grandaughters Iz and Leigh over for sleepovers. Big sigh.
We will all miss her greatly.
Trip Pix
We are having a sad day over here at Casa Rosenberg. Seymour's grandmother is quite ill. I am not much of a pray-er, but I am doing my best, as there are too many unfair things happening to her right now.
The present is leaden and gray. Mostly. Except for Leelo's getting back into Iron Gate nursery school for the Fall (it's the co-op devil I know). So I will write about the past instead. Here are some images from our trip to Burns, B.C., and Seattle, WA:
The fabulous 'KSan project. Living history, contemporary culture. I was agog. Leelo (foreground, running away) thought the great big lawn was fantastic. Iz and her cousins preferred picking wild raspberries to the presentations. I don't care--I got to see real copper shields and bentwood boxes, so I am happy.
I love fish almost as much as I love goats. Here is Iz with one of my favorite totem symbols, the halibut.
The bulk of the family reunion took place over two days, at this lovely lakeside yard belonging to my auntie's sister. We had bocce, boating, innertubing, fireworks, and a spit-roasted whole lamb (fun keeping Leelo away from the roasting pit, oh yes).
The ten grandcousins are spaced amusingly. From nine year old Nicole to three year old Kennedy, we have only girls (a wolfish pack of them). From stripey-pants wearing Leelo to four month old Picard, we have only boys--all wearing Leelo hand-me-downs. This made me realize that, save disastrous amounts of barfing, #3 may indeed get some nuclear family heirloom garments.
Hey, look! It's a really crappy picture of Seattle! I have about 20 of these on my hard drive. (No, this will be the perfect picture of downtown.)
We passed Gasworks Park during our lake outing, which made me think of SJ Alexander and how much I miss her blog. SJ's Frenchie, Chasmyn's Quinn, and my Leelo (not to mention MB's Sophie2) were all born within three weeks of each other, and I jonesed like a junkie over every Frenchie update. That little girl was my peephole to the alternate universe of typical Leelo-aged kids. And her mom was funnier than fuck.
This is Iz using the head. Does she look happy? No, she does not. I refer you to her quote of three or four posts ago.
I don't have any pictures of the Merser Island kiddie parade and festival we attended, because I kept clenching my jaws and fists too tightly to use a camera. This happened mostly because Stepford parents sporting Bush/Cheney '94 stickers kept walking by me, and it was either make my palms bleed, or jump them in full view of Seymour's folks. Sigh.
Bringing Therapist L to Seattle made the trip that much better. Seymour's folks were a bit stressed what with taking care of his grandmother, but they remained unflaggingly generous and hospitable, and took all the time they could to hang with Leelo and Iz. And the four of us got to visit with Seymour's grandmother as recently as Saturday. I am grateful for that.
We are having a sad day over here at Casa Rosenberg. Seymour's grandmother is quite ill. I am not much of a pray-er, but I am doing my best, as there are too many unfair things happening to her right now.
The present is leaden and gray. Mostly. Except for Leelo's getting back into Iron Gate nursery school for the Fall (it's the co-op devil I know). So I will write about the past instead. Here are some images from our trip to Burns, B.C., and Seattle, WA:
The fabulous 'KSan project. Living history, contemporary culture. I was agog. Leelo (foreground, running away) thought the great big lawn was fantastic. Iz and her cousins preferred picking wild raspberries to the presentations. I don't care--I got to see real copper shields and bentwood boxes, so I am happy.
I love fish almost as much as I love goats. Here is Iz with one of my favorite totem symbols, the halibut.
The bulk of the family reunion took place over two days, at this lovely lakeside yard belonging to my auntie's sister. We had bocce, boating, innertubing, fireworks, and a spit-roasted whole lamb (fun keeping Leelo away from the roasting pit, oh yes).
The ten grandcousins are spaced amusingly. From nine year old Nicole to three year old Kennedy, we have only girls (a wolfish pack of them). From stripey-pants wearing Leelo to four month old Picard, we have only boys--all wearing Leelo hand-me-downs. This made me realize that, save disastrous amounts of barfing, #3 may indeed get some nuclear family heirloom garments.
Hey, look! It's a really crappy picture of Seattle! I have about 20 of these on my hard drive. (No, this will be the perfect picture of downtown.)
We passed Gasworks Park during our lake outing, which made me think of SJ Alexander and how much I miss her blog. SJ's Frenchie, Chasmyn's Quinn, and my Leelo (not to mention MB's Sophie2) were all born within three weeks of each other, and I jonesed like a junkie over every Frenchie update. That little girl was my peephole to the alternate universe of typical Leelo-aged kids. And her mom was funnier than fuck.
This is Iz using the head. Does she look happy? No, she does not. I refer you to her quote of three or four posts ago.
I don't have any pictures of the Merser Island kiddie parade and festival we attended, because I kept clenching my jaws and fists too tightly to use a camera. This happened mostly because Stepford parents sporting Bush/Cheney '94 stickers kept walking by me, and it was either make my palms bleed, or jump them in full view of Seymour's folks. Sigh.
Bringing Therapist L to Seattle made the trip that much better. Seymour's folks were a bit stressed what with taking care of his grandmother, but they remained unflaggingly generous and hospitable, and took all the time they could to hang with Leelo and Iz. And the four of us got to visit with Seymour's grandmother as recently as Saturday. I am grateful for that.
7.11.2004
More Before I Forgets
Looks like mom and dad won't be here until midnight, so I am madly uploading trip pix and videos in the office/guest room. Images will be broadcast, in abundance, soon.
Has anyone seen the Leelo's Day show yet? I will take my folks to see it tomorrow, if it is up.
Speaking of los padres, my folks want to do a house swap for the months of November, December, and January. If you know anyone who lives in or around Deadwood City, and would prefer to spend those three wintry months in a sunny, warm, 3bd/4ba La Jollla condo 2 blocks from Windanssea Beach with an easy walk to downtown, let me know.
Iz finally seems into learning Spanish. She has her basic little libros, can read them with fairly decent pronunciation, and has taken to quizzing us instead of the other way 'round. She's picking it up so fast that I'm getting less worried about the transition.
Seymour's dad, on the other hand, had barely contained contempt for our fretting. We got the full dish about his twelve-year-old little immigrant butt being thrown into an English only, sink-or-swim classroom. He then spent a good while mooning to Iz about the beauty and consistency of Spanish (he's fluent), and the horrors of trying to grasp English inconsistencies.
And finally, fun fun fun via Waiting for Nat. This is the closest to me I could get:
Looks like mom and dad won't be here until midnight, so I am madly uploading trip pix and videos in the office/guest room. Images will be broadcast, in abundance, soon.
Has anyone seen the Leelo's Day show yet? I will take my folks to see it tomorrow, if it is up.
Speaking of los padres, my folks want to do a house swap for the months of November, December, and January. If you know anyone who lives in or around Deadwood City, and would prefer to spend those three wintry months in a sunny, warm, 3bd/4ba La Jollla condo 2 blocks from Windanssea Beach with an easy walk to downtown, let me know.
Iz finally seems into learning Spanish. She has her basic little libros, can read them with fairly decent pronunciation, and has taken to quizzing us instead of the other way 'round. She's picking it up so fast that I'm getting less worried about the transition.
Seymour's dad, on the other hand, had barely contained contempt for our fretting. We got the full dish about his twelve-year-old little immigrant butt being thrown into an English only, sink-or-swim classroom. He then spent a good while mooning to Iz about the beauty and consistency of Spanish (he's fluent), and the horrors of trying to grasp English inconsistencies.
And finally, fun fun fun via Waiting for Nat. This is the closest to me I could get:
Slow and Snarky
Briefly, before I forget:
Best moment of vacation: Leelo waking up yesterday morning, realizing that it was me and not that Seattle babysitter who put him to bed the night before, breaking into a huge smile and springing up to give me a great big hug.
Possible nadir: Iz telling Seymour's parents, "Mommy says that only she is allowed to hit Daddy."
I am having a slow, slow, slow day. Vacation recovery time is lengthy for me. Seymour is trying to pick up the slack and be Proactive Man, which I appreciate, but I am still wrecked.
Also, I love my parents, and I realize that they have to drive back from the family reunion extravaganza at some point, but do they have to start their visit tonight? Tomorrow morning was to be my first non-ill and completely child-free morning in three weeks. I was bursting with anticipation and delight, and now am all deflated. Ungrateful wretch that I am.
Briefly, before I forget:
Best moment of vacation: Leelo waking up yesterday morning, realizing that it was me and not that Seattle babysitter who put him to bed the night before, breaking into a huge smile and springing up to give me a great big hug.
Possible nadir: Iz telling Seymour's parents, "Mommy says that only she is allowed to hit Daddy."
I am having a slow, slow, slow day. Vacation recovery time is lengthy for me. Seymour is trying to pick up the slack and be Proactive Man, which I appreciate, but I am still wrecked.
Also, I love my parents, and I realize that they have to drive back from the family reunion extravaganza at some point, but do they have to start their visit tonight? Tomorrow morning was to be my first non-ill and completely child-free morning in three weeks. I was bursting with anticipation and delight, and now am all deflated. Ungrateful wretch that I am.
7.10.2004
Heydilly Ho
This was an exhausting but fun trip. I am happy happy happy to be back in my own house.
I failed utterly to find souvenir underwear for Badger. Sigh.
My new very favorite movie theater in the whole universe is the Cinerimerama in Seattle. Because they have only one giant, awe-inspiring screen, it is no big deal to take a potty break--they pipe the movie's audio into the restrooms. Plus they have a family bathroom, something I've never once seen in a theatre. And SpideyToo was awesome, goofy fun.
Iz quote to record before I forget about it: "Using the head (potty) is difficult when you're a child who is wearing a life jacket." Maybe you had to be there to chortle over this statement, delivered, deadpan, in her squeaky little five-year-old's voice.
Also, I got to meet the delightful Chasmyn and you didn't. My life is so much the more enriched than yours. Nyah!
I am going to go collapse. In my OWN bed. Rah for me.
This was an exhausting but fun trip. I am happy happy happy to be back in my own house.
I failed utterly to find souvenir underwear for Badger. Sigh.
My new very favorite movie theater in the whole universe is the Cinerimerama in Seattle. Because they have only one giant, awe-inspiring screen, it is no big deal to take a potty break--they pipe the movie's audio into the restrooms. Plus they have a family bathroom, something I've never once seen in a theatre. And SpideyToo was awesome, goofy fun.
Iz quote to record before I forget about it: "Using the head (potty) is difficult when you're a child who is wearing a life jacket." Maybe you had to be there to chortle over this statement, delivered, deadpan, in her squeaky little five-year-old's voice.
Also, I got to meet the delightful Chasmyn and you didn't. My life is so much the more enriched than yours. Nyah!
I am going to go collapse. In my OWN bed. Rah for me.
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