Just when I thought spring had sprung we get snow. I'm really ready for some serious spring weather to stay. It gets teasingly warm and then drops back to cold but snow was a bit too much.
We got a new septic tank! Yeah, I know, who gets excited about septic tanks? I do, especially since the old one broke. It worked fine as far as flush and be gone but there was an odd hole in the ground out back. So one fine morning the guys came and dug a really big hole, pulled up the old and replaced it with a new bigger concrete model. I found the whole procedure interesting and actually photographed it. I can play it as a slideshow for #2 who is really into heavy machinery. Poor kid had to go to school that day as it was spring picture day. I now have a huge mud area in back and am thinking of setting up ropes around it and renting it out for mud wrestling matches. I could use the revenue from ticket sales to pay for the tank. I'll have to run that idea by the Hubby. I have a feeling that if it involves babes in bikinis he'll be pro. He and all his friends will have to pay the cover charge. I bet my girlfriends would send their husbands down just to get some quiet time. If I offer child care I'll make a fortune! Most moms I know just want some quality alone time.
Any who- that went off topic! So I'm still working on the sewing room. I've hit the wall on creative layout for all my stuff. I think I have too many interests and not enough room or time. So I'm still trying to get all the bits and pieces arranged so I can put either the laptop or the sewing machine on my desk and use the side table for workspace. Someday I may get this done and looking good- until then it's better than everything scattered in boxes here and there upstairs but it's a slow go.
I've been working on some Easter decorations- paper bunnies and eggs, needlefelted eggs, some flowers and a couple of chicks. I've also got #1's 8th birthday coming up. Party decor to be planned and made. Too much to do and not anywhere enough time to do it. These holidays and things to celebrate come too close together! Good thing May should be pretty quiet- just the Memorial Day Parade for the Brownies. Maybe I'll get some projects done before school is out for summer. Wish me luck!
Tuesday, April 7, 2009
Monday, March 23, 2009
More renovations completed
We finally finished the upstairs of the extension. Two kids bedrooms and one large playroom. #1 is moved in and enjoying her bedroom. #2 will be moved in soon, but that requires more planning due to the autism and changing of routines. They have most of their stuff moved but some remains in #2's current room- the downstairs room soon to be known as the library and computer room. I have been working hard on sorting what makes to trip to the new area and what goes to the garage for a big garage sale this spring. I also have been working hard on turing #1's old room, which is 10 X 9, into a sewing and crafting room. I ripped out the wire closet stuff and replaced it with shelving to either side of the door to store boxes of fabric, scrapbooking supplies, felt and wool roving. I am so excited but still have much to do to have my little room done. I've got to move all the craft stuff out of the various places I've been storing it and get it arranged (and re-arranged until I'm happy) so it will be functional. My goal with the sewing room, playroom and kids rooms is to get all the stuff which belong in each room in there, organize it so it's easy to find and clean. That goal ought to take me forever. I am not organized by nature. So to give a quick peek at some of the kids area-
This is Princess #1's bed. Pink- it's all about pink! And a few hundred of her favorite stuffed friends.
This is the computer and teaching area of the playroom. I don't homeschool but I do supplement the school work with our own lessons. #1 loves picking topics to research- most recently the effect of nutrients on the body. How vitamins and minerals are digested and used. It was a colorful conversation from the start with deciding what food is healthy and which is not, taking a bite and swallowing through to the final output. #2 needs more work to reinforce the things he learns in school. Spelling, writing and pointing to items requested can be done here. There are plenty of supplies here and also in the craft area. 
This is the craft area. Everything was still dumped on the table for sorting when I snapped this pic. It is now cleared with boxes by type of craft. Clay, paint, markers, color pencils, paper, etc. It looks better now. There is a book case area, and will be a train table area for our dear friend Thomas and his gazillion little train friends.
This is the puzzle area in #2's room. While the pink bed is a HUGE part of #1's room, #2 is all about his puzzles. They get put together all over the floor. Now he will have a large area for them. The toybox was hand made by my mother with a circus theme. I had decided, long beofre I knew about our joinging the 'autism circus' that his room theme would be an old time circus in a tent. His walls are canvas color with a rubbed red trim. #1 also has a handmade toybox with a beatrix potter theme.
Here is a close up of the hand painting on #2's. It says "And in the center ring" with dogs performing on a horse, a balloon and a tightrope.
Here is #1's toybox. The front is a wallpaper border with various Beatrix Potter characters. And when I get a better picture- with less sun from her window- I will post it.
The seat is hand painted.
The sides are also hand painted. Again, all this was done by my mother.
So there you get to see what has been going on here. We have been very busy since last summer with getting this all done. Most of the work was done by us around Hubby's work schedule and any time we could find. And there is always more to be done!!
Thursday, January 22, 2009
Who knows where the time goes
I am always amazed at how quickly time flies and I wasn't doing anything much. I'm spending most days hibernating and trying not to go out into the freezing cold. As the years spin by I realize how cold it gets here. My days of building snow forts all day are over. I'm more of the short bursts of snow play broken up by hot chocolate and the wood stove. #1 LOVES the snow and plays on the back hill with the sled, saucer and toboggan for a few hours at a time. #2 is more of the go in the snow to wait for the bus, eat a bit of snow and get on the bus. He's not a sled kid. Snowmen hold no interest. He doesn't like hot chocolate. It can make playing outside after school a bit hard on me. The constant back and forth from house to yard always brings more snow into the house than I intended but #2 is willing to eat it all.
The kids new bedrooms will be done soon and then comes the mammoth chore of moving all their stuff . We're down to floor molding, varnishing the doors and touching up any trim paint. This is all being done by Dear Hubby so it's done after work and weekends. It's been a long process but will be worth it in a few more weeks. I have no idea how #2 will react to the changes but it should be interesting. They will also have a new playroom for all their stuff. The idea is to corral most of the toys and detritus so that some of the downstairs doesn't look like I run a home daycare.
The kids new bedrooms will be done soon and then comes the mammoth chore of moving all their stuff . We're down to floor molding, varnishing the doors and touching up any trim paint. This is all being done by Dear Hubby so it's done after work and weekends. It's been a long process but will be worth it in a few more weeks. I have no idea how #2 will react to the changes but it should be interesting. They will also have a new playroom for all their stuff. The idea is to corral most of the toys and detritus so that some of the downstairs doesn't look like I run a home daycare.
Thursday, January 8, 2009
Today is my birthday. So I'm feeling very reflective right now and have decided to post a retrospective.
I don't feel my age. Mostly I feel quite a bit younger but every so often it creeps up and I feel a million years old. It really depends on the state of aches and pains. I've led a fun life, so far. I have quite a bit more arthritis than I should as a result. When you break some bones and dislocate others you will end up with something approaching arthritis, so we'll call it arthritis for now. I've broken plenty while having fun- fingers, toes, a rib or two, my nose repeatedly and my spine once. Never an arm or leg- nothing normal like that. The nose has one of my favorite stories attached to one of it's breaks. The baseball game I didn't play. All I did was watch a game at McCarthy Park in Buffalo. A warm up session involving a missed catch, a ricochet, my turning my head and bam- one broken nose. I'm still not too fond of seeing baseballs coming at my face. But it was 30 years ago. The spine involved a horse, a jump and far more guts than brains. I believed I was going to clear the jump on the horse, I was wrong. Ben Hur went right and I did not. Sounds like a Buffalo Bills moment- wide right. It was a defining moment- I have excellent posture as a result of all the time in a back brace while I healed. I did get back on the horse- a year later when I could ride again. There are some other funny stories about various breaks and fractures- like how I slammed my thumb in the car door and it was locked, or getting punched in gym class for mentioning the girl next to me was more 'developed' than the rest of us in sixth grade, the getting hit by a car in the March of Dimes Superwalk and having my knee wrecked. Oddly enough most of these memories have become funny- or at least funnier than they were at the time they happened.
I have very fond memories of growing up in University Heights. Our street had a park at one end, an island in the middle and was on a hill. Skate boarding, roller skating and sledding were all fun. Unless you were my Dad who broke his leg skateboarding when he hit the gravel and debris at the edge of the road (we did warn him to stay in the middle of the street.). Times were VERY different then. It was nothing for me to leave the house early and be gone all day without telling my mother much of my plans. she could ring to one friends house who may say we had left for another who would then pass along that we had gone to yet another house. Things were just slower and more relaxed. Childhood was not as structured as it is today. All these enrichment activities and scheduled classes were not as common. Most everyone I knew took piano for awhile with the same teacher- at her house, dance or gymnastics right after school and scouts. Maybe one or two things at a time. Playdates were NOT arranged by parents very often. Sometimes if there were new kids the new parents would approach our parents and set up a playdate at their house to meet the new kid. Mostly playdates consisted of yelling "see ya Saturday." as I ran home to dinner. We played in each others homes yards, garages and trees- sometimes even if the kid who lived there wasn't home. We all went to see the kid with the chicken pox so we'd all be sick together. An entire neighborhood of pox covered kids now would prompt a FEMA response, the CDC to consider a quarantine and child welfare agencies to look askance at the parents. Did I mention that bicycle protective gear consisted of long pants and shirt as opposed to shorts and T shirt? Falling off the bike meant picking road grit out of your wound with a dozen of your closest friends helping- nothing like possible blood borne pathogens there.
While it sounds like there was no supervision at all, there was actually no end of supervision. Every adult in the area watched us- and yelled at us for being bad, stupid, dangerous and whatever else they decided to yell over. If you got hurt there was no shortage of adults to help. Someone would come rushing outside at the first sound of crying. They would either take you into their bathroom, wash you up and slather iodine on your cut followed by a band aid (read that as red badge of courage) and call your mom or send another kid to get your mom. I don't recall any lawsuits over who bandaged my numerous skinned knees. Fights were usually settled by flailing fists until whatever the problem had been was deemed solved by the rest of us or by yelling and name calling. None of it did any irreparable damage and some taught me faster lessons than getting yelled at by my parents. Water balloon wars were fought by boys against girls- always. Snowball fights were against whoever you could hit. Driveways were to be shovelled first- then play. The rules of childhood were simple but written in stone. When Mom rang the cast iron bell I had to go home and if I was inside some one's house and anyone else heard it, they would get me. We didn't 'leave a man behind' to get punished for being late to dinner. Bigger kids crossed little kids into the park. They refereed fights and settled lesser arguments. Sometimes they even put on magic shows for us. They didn't bully us for our shoes, jacket, electronics (not that we had electronics) or anything else.
In our neighborhood we were the odd family. The hippie family. There was another hippie family for awhile but they moved. We didn't have TV and we grew our own vegetables. My dad drove a corvette (right- not very hippie but he liked 'vettes.). Ours was the place everyone went to tinker on cars- and help Dad build corvettes. My mother brought the teeter totter into the house one day when it started to rain. It was a large hand carved wooden (think Brio and Haba, now) thing that I wish I had today. The other parents thought we were nuts and the kids loved it. Boy do I wish things were that simple for my kids. But lets be honest- times changed.
I walked to school until fourth grade. I went to a school which is now an art gallery. I can still remember my classrooms and the utility room where I would clean erasers after school. That school closed and I went to a larger school for one year. It was awful. I loved my teacher but I hated the bus, the size, staying there for lunch ( I had walked home for lunch before)and pretty much everything about it outside my classroom. That seems to be the beginning of the changes. Fifth grade I went to yet another school where I stayed until eleventh grade. But things were changing and we were all going to different schools in my neighborhood. I went to a public school (remember- hippie parents) and almost everyone else went to the local catholic school. New friends, new hobbies and new schools kept us apart.
Fast forward to today and I rarely drive through my old neighborhood anymore although my mother lives just minutes away from that house. The park is still there but it looks like it's rarely played in, the houses are the same but they feel different. Some of the families are still there, some are not. I guess I miss what it was more than I wonder what it is now. Some memories are sacred and don't need to be tarnished by the reality of today colliding with the wild abandon of then. So I usually take a main road by the old neighborhood and visit my mother. As for my kids- they have woods in the yard and a small town to grow up in. That will have to fuel their future reminiscences of their childhoods.
#1 looked at me recently after I told her about my childhood (edited so she wouldn't do half the stupid dangerous stuff I did) and she said, with total sincerity, "I wish I was around back in the good old days." I wasn't sure if I wanted to wring her little neck for making my childhood into the 'good old days' or hug her. We compromised for laughing that I wasn't THAT old- yet- and that she can make her own set of 'good old days' memories to tell her kids. So I have a birthday to attend to. I wonder how old I'll be when I can plan my own party and it will still be a surprise party???? Maybe next year at the rate my memory is going.
I don't feel my age. Mostly I feel quite a bit younger but every so often it creeps up and I feel a million years old. It really depends on the state of aches and pains. I've led a fun life, so far. I have quite a bit more arthritis than I should as a result. When you break some bones and dislocate others you will end up with something approaching arthritis, so we'll call it arthritis for now. I've broken plenty while having fun- fingers, toes, a rib or two, my nose repeatedly and my spine once. Never an arm or leg- nothing normal like that. The nose has one of my favorite stories attached to one of it's breaks. The baseball game I didn't play. All I did was watch a game at McCarthy Park in Buffalo. A warm up session involving a missed catch, a ricochet, my turning my head and bam- one broken nose. I'm still not too fond of seeing baseballs coming at my face. But it was 30 years ago. The spine involved a horse, a jump and far more guts than brains. I believed I was going to clear the jump on the horse, I was wrong. Ben Hur went right and I did not. Sounds like a Buffalo Bills moment- wide right. It was a defining moment- I have excellent posture as a result of all the time in a back brace while I healed. I did get back on the horse- a year later when I could ride again. There are some other funny stories about various breaks and fractures- like how I slammed my thumb in the car door and it was locked, or getting punched in gym class for mentioning the girl next to me was more 'developed' than the rest of us in sixth grade, the getting hit by a car in the March of Dimes Superwalk and having my knee wrecked. Oddly enough most of these memories have become funny- or at least funnier than they were at the time they happened.
I have very fond memories of growing up in University Heights. Our street had a park at one end, an island in the middle and was on a hill. Skate boarding, roller skating and sledding were all fun. Unless you were my Dad who broke his leg skateboarding when he hit the gravel and debris at the edge of the road (we did warn him to stay in the middle of the street.). Times were VERY different then. It was nothing for me to leave the house early and be gone all day without telling my mother much of my plans. she could ring to one friends house who may say we had left for another who would then pass along that we had gone to yet another house. Things were just slower and more relaxed. Childhood was not as structured as it is today. All these enrichment activities and scheduled classes were not as common. Most everyone I knew took piano for awhile with the same teacher- at her house, dance or gymnastics right after school and scouts. Maybe one or two things at a time. Playdates were NOT arranged by parents very often. Sometimes if there were new kids the new parents would approach our parents and set up a playdate at their house to meet the new kid. Mostly playdates consisted of yelling "see ya Saturday." as I ran home to dinner. We played in each others homes yards, garages and trees- sometimes even if the kid who lived there wasn't home. We all went to see the kid with the chicken pox so we'd all be sick together. An entire neighborhood of pox covered kids now would prompt a FEMA response, the CDC to consider a quarantine and child welfare agencies to look askance at the parents. Did I mention that bicycle protective gear consisted of long pants and shirt as opposed to shorts and T shirt? Falling off the bike meant picking road grit out of your wound with a dozen of your closest friends helping- nothing like possible blood borne pathogens there.
While it sounds like there was no supervision at all, there was actually no end of supervision. Every adult in the area watched us- and yelled at us for being bad, stupid, dangerous and whatever else they decided to yell over. If you got hurt there was no shortage of adults to help. Someone would come rushing outside at the first sound of crying. They would either take you into their bathroom, wash you up and slather iodine on your cut followed by a band aid (read that as red badge of courage) and call your mom or send another kid to get your mom. I don't recall any lawsuits over who bandaged my numerous skinned knees. Fights were usually settled by flailing fists until whatever the problem had been was deemed solved by the rest of us or by yelling and name calling. None of it did any irreparable damage and some taught me faster lessons than getting yelled at by my parents. Water balloon wars were fought by boys against girls- always. Snowball fights were against whoever you could hit. Driveways were to be shovelled first- then play. The rules of childhood were simple but written in stone. When Mom rang the cast iron bell I had to go home and if I was inside some one's house and anyone else heard it, they would get me. We didn't 'leave a man behind' to get punished for being late to dinner. Bigger kids crossed little kids into the park. They refereed fights and settled lesser arguments. Sometimes they even put on magic shows for us. They didn't bully us for our shoes, jacket, electronics (not that we had electronics) or anything else.
In our neighborhood we were the odd family. The hippie family. There was another hippie family for awhile but they moved. We didn't have TV and we grew our own vegetables. My dad drove a corvette (right- not very hippie but he liked 'vettes.). Ours was the place everyone went to tinker on cars- and help Dad build corvettes. My mother brought the teeter totter into the house one day when it started to rain. It was a large hand carved wooden (think Brio and Haba, now) thing that I wish I had today. The other parents thought we were nuts and the kids loved it. Boy do I wish things were that simple for my kids. But lets be honest- times changed.
I walked to school until fourth grade. I went to a school which is now an art gallery. I can still remember my classrooms and the utility room where I would clean erasers after school. That school closed and I went to a larger school for one year. It was awful. I loved my teacher but I hated the bus, the size, staying there for lunch ( I had walked home for lunch before)and pretty much everything about it outside my classroom. That seems to be the beginning of the changes. Fifth grade I went to yet another school where I stayed until eleventh grade. But things were changing and we were all going to different schools in my neighborhood. I went to a public school (remember- hippie parents) and almost everyone else went to the local catholic school. New friends, new hobbies and new schools kept us apart.
Fast forward to today and I rarely drive through my old neighborhood anymore although my mother lives just minutes away from that house. The park is still there but it looks like it's rarely played in, the houses are the same but they feel different. Some of the families are still there, some are not. I guess I miss what it was more than I wonder what it is now. Some memories are sacred and don't need to be tarnished by the reality of today colliding with the wild abandon of then. So I usually take a main road by the old neighborhood and visit my mother. As for my kids- they have woods in the yard and a small town to grow up in. That will have to fuel their future reminiscences of their childhoods.
#1 looked at me recently after I told her about my childhood (edited so she wouldn't do half the stupid dangerous stuff I did) and she said, with total sincerity, "I wish I was around back in the good old days." I wasn't sure if I wanted to wring her little neck for making my childhood into the 'good old days' or hug her. We compromised for laughing that I wasn't THAT old- yet- and that she can make her own set of 'good old days' memories to tell her kids. So I have a birthday to attend to. I wonder how old I'll be when I can plan my own party and it will still be a surprise party???? Maybe next year at the rate my memory is going.
Saturday, November 22, 2008
The Turkey Cometh
So it's less than a week to Thanksgiving. This year I'm slightly ahead of the game. I've got the turkey and sides already. The pies will get done and I'm only lacking whipping cream and cranberry sauce. I tried to get the cranberries but there was a mob by the display so I'm going to get them on my final pass through the market next week. Not too many decorations for Thanksgiving- some leaves and window clings courtesy of #1, a construction paper turkey by #2 and that's about it. Thanksgiving is like the middle child- it was never the first or last. Most of my current focus for decorations is Christmas- little paper mittens and stockings for a garland, paper cones for the advent calendar, some glue and glitter for the paper decor, a new vacuum bag for after the paper decorating, lots of little lights strung hither and yon. Little Christmas books, candles, frames, statues, stuffed animals, etc. everywhere. There is nothing as fun as stringing the 600 mini lights along the dining room molding and windows. Last year I used little transparent 3M sticky hooks to help hold the lights in place- please cross your fingers that I can find them in time to use them again this year. I have a knack for putting things in a safe place that I'll surely remember next time I need whatever. Someday I'll find so many things on time I'll finally have that psychotic break I've been waiting on.
So I agreed to be tech support for #2s class. I get to learn the Boardmaker computer program. What is that you ask? It is a program from Mayer-Johnson for communication with language delayed or impaired individuals. It is a bit daunting but I think I'll be OK. There are cool tutorials on the website and the instruction manual is huge! The goal is to create pictures with words to help the class learn the words at the same time as facilitating communication. Autism being the minefield of possibilities that it is you never really know what will work. One of my goals is to get him onto a schedule at home to ease the tantrums. He will be able to look at a book and follow the list without much help after learning all the various components. Sounds like me and my PDA. Where am I supposed to be and what do I need to get done. Same idea but it will also factor in the life skills he needs to master- getting dressed himself, brushing hair and teeth- with different brushes- breakfast, hand and face washing, etc. It's a huge list if you stop to think of all the little things we all have to do daily. Anyways, back to tech support for the class- I get to make the activity boards, pictures needed for class use or in the home to augment learning, schedules in pictures, etc. If you've heard of PECS- picture exchange communication system, you get the idea. Some of the pictures are funny- I mean that in both senses of the word. The brush your teeth picture has no nose or eyes, because the focus is on brushing the teeth. Wish me luck, I think I'm gonna be really busy!
So I agreed to be tech support for #2s class. I get to learn the Boardmaker computer program. What is that you ask? It is a program from Mayer-Johnson for communication with language delayed or impaired individuals. It is a bit daunting but I think I'll be OK. There are cool tutorials on the website and the instruction manual is huge! The goal is to create pictures with words to help the class learn the words at the same time as facilitating communication. Autism being the minefield of possibilities that it is you never really know what will work. One of my goals is to get him onto a schedule at home to ease the tantrums. He will be able to look at a book and follow the list without much help after learning all the various components. Sounds like me and my PDA. Where am I supposed to be and what do I need to get done. Same idea but it will also factor in the life skills he needs to master- getting dressed himself, brushing hair and teeth- with different brushes- breakfast, hand and face washing, etc. It's a huge list if you stop to think of all the little things we all have to do daily. Anyways, back to tech support for the class- I get to make the activity boards, pictures needed for class use or in the home to augment learning, schedules in pictures, etc. If you've heard of PECS- picture exchange communication system, you get the idea. Some of the pictures are funny- I mean that in both senses of the word. The brush your teeth picture has no nose or eyes, because the focus is on brushing the teeth. Wish me luck, I think I'm gonna be really busy!
Wednesday, November 5, 2008
Reading can be hazardous to my health
Happy November.
I have finally been forced to entertain the idea that reading is dangerous. Not as in it's gonna kill me but in the it's gonna drive me crazy kind of dangerous. You may be wondering what kind of reading I'm talking about. It's not the big expensive Christmas wishlist catalogs I'm talking about, it's not even my reading that's the problem. #1 has taken to reading everything she can. It doesn't matter what it is, she reads it to me and if she can't figure out the word she spells it to me. Right, I know, that's great- she is really trying hard to read and expand her knowledge. Welllllll, we all know a little knowledge is a dangerous thing, right. Well so is a little reading. Especially when the conversation runs something like this-
#1 "Mom, how fast are you going?"
Mom "47"
#1 "The sign said the speed limit is 45. You're speeding!"
Mom (thinking I'll change the focus to something safer- like math) "How many miles per hour over the speed limit am I?" (Dumb move, Mom)
#1 " Mooooom, the speed limit is 45, it doesn't matter how many miles over the limit you are, the police officer is going to arrest you."
Mom "huh- what police officer?"
#1 "Can I have your cell phone?"
Mom "No, why?"
#1 "So I can call the police and tell them you are speeding."
Mom "Not gonna happen. I'm doing 45 now so you can relax."
#1 "Can you hurry, I hafta go to the bathroom."
It's a no win situation sometimes. The good twin said "sure honey, I'll speed right home so you can pee." The bad twin said "the speed limit is 45." I'm pretty sure that the internal argument over how to respond is leading me closer to a nervous breakdown. I find that remaining silent after this type of discussion is the best choice. Nobody gets their feelings hurt and nobody learns any words they don't need to use at a later date. I find it's usually easier to drive with #2 that #1, he doesn't feel the need to interject pithy commentaries in the middle of a song I love and haven't heard in a million years. On the other hand since #2 doesn't talk- ever, it does get boring sometimes to drive with him. Unless you count odd noises from the back seat. Try checking on odd noises at 55 on the thruway. Usually I just take for granted he is being himself and having a strange noise interlude. The rear view mirror is not helpful, by the time you get it adjusted to see what he is doing he's quiet and gazing happily out the window. By the time I get it back to seeing the truck behind me he's making odd noises again. I think children realize the amazing power they have when they are in the car and abuse it.
I love the fact that #1 is really off and running (amok) with this whole reading thing. I love to read and actually will read anything put in front of me, which explains why I know so much about the kids cereal. I have no recollection of being like this as a child.
"What does no turn on red mean, Mommy?"
"It means you can't make a right turn when the light is red."
"Can you turn left?"
"No."
"Why not?"
"Can we talk about this when we get home and I can explain about the flow of traffic and crossing lanes of traffic, oh nuts- that was our turn."
"Why did you go by our turn?"
"I was talking and not thinking."
"Can't you think and talk at the same time?"
"Yes, but I can't seem to think, talk and drive all at the same time."
Oh the things we say when we are doing other things. Or worse the things I've almost said while doing other things-
"Mommy, Can I live at home with you forever?"
"NO!!!!!" narrowly caught before falling out of my mouth.
Lets look at some of the conversational cliff hangers. We all know the way kids ask questions that have a good answer, a better answer and a please don't let me say that one answer. Shall we visit a few of my favorites and review the good, better and bite your tongue answers?
#1 "Why did you want kids?"
good- "Daddy and I thought the Grandmas deserved some grandchildren."
better- "Daddy and I wanted a little girl just like you."
Bite your tongue- "Jack Daniels made it seem like a swell idea."
#2 "Where did I come from?"
good- "The hospital."
Better- "Mommy's belly."
bite your tongue- "Mars."
#3"Is math hard?"
good- "No."
Better- "I'll always help you learn math."
Bite your tongue- "Yes."
#4"Will my goldfish go to heaven?"
Good- "I'm sure your goldfish is happy where ever they go."
Better- "I'm sure your goldfish is in goldfish heaven right now."
Bite your tongue- "No, it went to the septic tank."
Why is it that the bite your tongue answer is usually the first one you think of? Am I the only one in the universe who has these good mommy/bad mommy moments where I have to actually weigh my answers against how it could be repeated back in public?
I've come up with a new plan to annoy telemarketers. I give the phone to #1 and let her get some phone manners practice. She's quite polite but really getting indignant that they keep hanging up on her. How rude can they be? Hey, you call my house during the dinner hour and you can expect to talk to whomever I hand the phone to- including the dog, who is NOT much of a conversationalist but he sure can do loud breathing. They should be thankful I don't put them on speaker so they can hear all the commotion and strange questions. "Mommy, why do they call during dinner?" "Because they figure we're home to be annoyed." "What's for dinner?" "I don't remember what I made but grab some while it's hot." "Hey #2, sit on the chair, not the table. #1 use a fork. #2 eat off your own plate." Dinner here does have a twilight zone quality to it most nights. Then they all go to their own little areas after dinner and I can almost believe I'm alone in the house for 3.5 minutes until the next drama begins something like this.... "mom, he's touching/stealing/looking at something of mine." And we are off for more fun.
I have finally been forced to entertain the idea that reading is dangerous. Not as in it's gonna kill me but in the it's gonna drive me crazy kind of dangerous. You may be wondering what kind of reading I'm talking about. It's not the big expensive Christmas wishlist catalogs I'm talking about, it's not even my reading that's the problem. #1 has taken to reading everything she can. It doesn't matter what it is, she reads it to me and if she can't figure out the word she spells it to me. Right, I know, that's great- she is really trying hard to read and expand her knowledge. Welllllll, we all know a little knowledge is a dangerous thing, right. Well so is a little reading. Especially when the conversation runs something like this-
#1 "Mom, how fast are you going?"
Mom "47"
#1 "The sign said the speed limit is 45. You're speeding!"
Mom (thinking I'll change the focus to something safer- like math) "How many miles per hour over the speed limit am I?" (Dumb move, Mom)
#1 " Mooooom, the speed limit is 45, it doesn't matter how many miles over the limit you are, the police officer is going to arrest you."
Mom "huh- what police officer?"
#1 "Can I have your cell phone?"
Mom "No, why?"
#1 "So I can call the police and tell them you are speeding."
Mom "Not gonna happen. I'm doing 45 now so you can relax."
#1 "Can you hurry, I hafta go to the bathroom."
It's a no win situation sometimes. The good twin said "sure honey, I'll speed right home so you can pee." The bad twin said "the speed limit is 45." I'm pretty sure that the internal argument over how to respond is leading me closer to a nervous breakdown. I find that remaining silent after this type of discussion is the best choice. Nobody gets their feelings hurt and nobody learns any words they don't need to use at a later date. I find it's usually easier to drive with #2 that #1, he doesn't feel the need to interject pithy commentaries in the middle of a song I love and haven't heard in a million years. On the other hand since #2 doesn't talk- ever, it does get boring sometimes to drive with him. Unless you count odd noises from the back seat. Try checking on odd noises at 55 on the thruway. Usually I just take for granted he is being himself and having a strange noise interlude. The rear view mirror is not helpful, by the time you get it adjusted to see what he is doing he's quiet and gazing happily out the window. By the time I get it back to seeing the truck behind me he's making odd noises again. I think children realize the amazing power they have when they are in the car and abuse it.
I love the fact that #1 is really off and running (amok) with this whole reading thing. I love to read and actually will read anything put in front of me, which explains why I know so much about the kids cereal. I have no recollection of being like this as a child.
"What does no turn on red mean, Mommy?"
"It means you can't make a right turn when the light is red."
"Can you turn left?"
"No."
"Why not?"
"Can we talk about this when we get home and I can explain about the flow of traffic and crossing lanes of traffic, oh nuts- that was our turn."
"Why did you go by our turn?"
"I was talking and not thinking."
"Can't you think and talk at the same time?"
"Yes, but I can't seem to think, talk and drive all at the same time."
Oh the things we say when we are doing other things. Or worse the things I've almost said while doing other things-
"Mommy, Can I live at home with you forever?"
"NO!!!!!" narrowly caught before falling out of my mouth.
Lets look at some of the conversational cliff hangers. We all know the way kids ask questions that have a good answer, a better answer and a please don't let me say that one answer. Shall we visit a few of my favorites and review the good, better and bite your tongue answers?
#1 "Why did you want kids?"
good- "Daddy and I thought the Grandmas deserved some grandchildren."
better- "Daddy and I wanted a little girl just like you."
Bite your tongue- "Jack Daniels made it seem like a swell idea."
#2 "Where did I come from?"
good- "The hospital."
Better- "Mommy's belly."
bite your tongue- "Mars."
#3"Is math hard?"
good- "No."
Better- "I'll always help you learn math."
Bite your tongue- "Yes."
#4"Will my goldfish go to heaven?"
Good- "I'm sure your goldfish is happy where ever they go."
Better- "I'm sure your goldfish is in goldfish heaven right now."
Bite your tongue- "No, it went to the septic tank."
Why is it that the bite your tongue answer is usually the first one you think of? Am I the only one in the universe who has these good mommy/bad mommy moments where I have to actually weigh my answers against how it could be repeated back in public?
I've come up with a new plan to annoy telemarketers. I give the phone to #1 and let her get some phone manners practice. She's quite polite but really getting indignant that they keep hanging up on her. How rude can they be? Hey, you call my house during the dinner hour and you can expect to talk to whomever I hand the phone to- including the dog, who is NOT much of a conversationalist but he sure can do loud breathing. They should be thankful I don't put them on speaker so they can hear all the commotion and strange questions. "Mommy, why do they call during dinner?" "Because they figure we're home to be annoyed." "What's for dinner?" "I don't remember what I made but grab some while it's hot." "Hey #2, sit on the chair, not the table. #1 use a fork. #2 eat off your own plate." Dinner here does have a twilight zone quality to it most nights. Then they all go to their own little areas after dinner and I can almost believe I'm alone in the house for 3.5 minutes until the next drama begins something like this.... "mom, he's touching/stealing/looking at something of mine." And we are off for more fun.
Sunday, October 19, 2008
Happy Birthday to Captain Dan
My kid brother had his birthday this past Friday. My only contact with him for the day was email. Once upon a time I would have called him and razzed him about getting older but with him being in Iraq that's pretty much impossible. So I sent him a gift card to Amazon and hope he'll get something he will enjoy. I know him and figure it'll be books most likely. So let me give a brief overview of my little brother. First I use that term since everyone who knows us will laugh. He is nearly a foot taller than I am and about 2x my weight. OK- yup, I'm small but he's also big. I am nearly 4 years older so I have no intention of spilling his age (16- hahahahaha). I wanted a puppy, I think that says quite a bit, don't you? The fact that I got a naked, useless, smelly, crying creature was not what I had in mind. I was thinking small, cute, sorta hairy, would grow into a great friend in a few months. In a few months all I had was a smelly, crying, useless in a onesie kinda pet. Needless to say house training him was slow going. We'll get to the leash later. He wasn't all bad, he kept the parents busy and out of my way. So the years went by and still I waited for him to become as fun as my mother promised he would. Finally, after years of torture and pain he's not so useless. Still smelly- his shoes could cripple, not quite as naked but there are laws about that, and less prone to crying than to long amazing strings of profanity. I don't wish he was a puppy as often now.
So let me regale you with some of the moments when I wished he was a puppy- or something wild I could release and never see again. One of the most memorable moments was when, on MY birthday, he announced to my date "Gee XXX, you're not as fat as my sister said you were." I really wanted a suspension of the first commandment for that birthday, although I'm pretty sure it would have been viewed as justifiable homicide had my parents not protected the little spawn of Satan. Little brothers make nice decorations gagged in my opinion- and it could extend their life span. Or how about the story that still makes my mother laugh til her eyes water- the eggs. I like hard boiled eggs and would often boil 6 or 8 at a time. To keep the boiled from getting confused with the fresh (NOT boiled- RAW!!!) eggs I would write HB in pencil on them. Do we all see where this story is going????? OK, so as I come in the kitchen one day and smack the HB egg on the counter and it runs everywhere I realize only the spawn could have done this. According to my mother (who is still straight faced at this point) she was there when my brother (I was switched at birth- where is my rich birth family when I need them?!?) walked in, opened the fridge, took 2 eggs out with the letters HB clearly written on them, peeled and ate them. She did feel the need to mention that I might be aggravated (she is smiling and trying not to laugh by now) so critter says not to worry, takes 2 eggs that have no HB written on them (RAW!!!!), asks her for a pencil- WHICH SHE GIVES HIM, LIKE A GOOD LITTLE ENABLER- and he writes HB and puts them right where he found the other two eggs. By this time she is laughing with no attempt to hide it. The eternal question from this episode of long, long ago- what happened to the second raw HB egg? Dunno- I quit making HB eggs, kept labeling them HB in an attempt to settle the score but I didn't boil another egg until I had my own apartment.
Now that we are both older and some time has passed I don't get mad at him all over again for that. He and I actually get along- as my mother said we would. Now we get along like any two people from a moderately weird family and laugh about the moments we thought would kill us. We laugh about our kids- my 2 and his 3, our lives, our family- that gets some real good laughs and our differences. The size difference is just the start- and the most glaring. Most people would not think we are related unless they spoke to both of us for awhile. A dry sense of humor, odd turns of phrase and a strange candor mark us as related.
Since most people by now think he was only evil as a child, let me give an example of the budding camaraderie as we grew up. No one beat up my brother but me. Twisted logic but hey, we were kids. One day we were home at the same time, watching the news when we saw a piece on a woman with leukemia who needed to find a bone marrow donor. There was a drive at a church not terribly far from us. He looked at me and said "Wanna go?" So we went and got tested and listed as potential donors for someone we never met- cause it seemed like the right thing to do. I think I was about 24 or so. He was 4 years younger then, too. The day that my grandfather died in January 1999, we drove all around making arrangements with the funeral home and then to the VA to get a flag since he had been in the Army in WWII. I remember him showing his Army ID and getting in no problem while I beeped my little heart out in the metal detector. To this day I have no idea what was beeping- I was ready to (and said so out loud) strip naked and go to the 7th floor of the old Dulski Federal building in Buffalo to get the flag but the guard finally waved me over for a hand held wand check- which DIDN"T beep. I had taken off my coat and the pile of stuff on it was impressive- I had no idea jeans pockets could hole so much. My brother made sure to point out I got waved over as I threatened to strip naked- hmmmm I think I was being insulted. We got through the day and got everything set up pretty well for a pair who had never done that sort of thing before. His good friend Dave Z., also Army, showed up in uniform for the service- in a freezing cold damn blizzard- to present the flag and stand at attention for the fallen soldier. I guess he has to be a good guy to have friends like Dave.
So my brother is Army- he's in Iraq for his third time. If all soldiers were as upstanding as my brother there would be no questions about improper behavior. One thing I can say without fear of being challenged- the boy's got Honor. That's right Honor with a capital H. It's a big thing to my family to behave and live an honorable life. He's still my little brother and NOBODY gets to beat him up but me, and his kids and my kids. Nobody else. So I'm going to close this with the same thing I say everyday when I wake up- "God keep him safe and get him home OK."
Happy Birthday kiddo, may you have many, many more.
So let me regale you with some of the moments when I wished he was a puppy- or something wild I could release and never see again. One of the most memorable moments was when, on MY birthday, he announced to my date "Gee XXX, you're not as fat as my sister said you were." I really wanted a suspension of the first commandment for that birthday, although I'm pretty sure it would have been viewed as justifiable homicide had my parents not protected the little spawn of Satan. Little brothers make nice decorations gagged in my opinion- and it could extend their life span. Or how about the story that still makes my mother laugh til her eyes water- the eggs. I like hard boiled eggs and would often boil 6 or 8 at a time. To keep the boiled from getting confused with the fresh (NOT boiled- RAW!!!) eggs I would write HB in pencil on them. Do we all see where this story is going????? OK, so as I come in the kitchen one day and smack the HB egg on the counter and it runs everywhere I realize only the spawn could have done this. According to my mother (who is still straight faced at this point) she was there when my brother (I was switched at birth- where is my rich birth family when I need them?!?) walked in, opened the fridge, took 2 eggs out with the letters HB clearly written on them, peeled and ate them. She did feel the need to mention that I might be aggravated (she is smiling and trying not to laugh by now) so critter says not to worry, takes 2 eggs that have no HB written on them (RAW!!!!), asks her for a pencil- WHICH SHE GIVES HIM, LIKE A GOOD LITTLE ENABLER- and he writes HB and puts them right where he found the other two eggs. By this time she is laughing with no attempt to hide it. The eternal question from this episode of long, long ago- what happened to the second raw HB egg? Dunno- I quit making HB eggs, kept labeling them HB in an attempt to settle the score but I didn't boil another egg until I had my own apartment.
Now that we are both older and some time has passed I don't get mad at him all over again for that. He and I actually get along- as my mother said we would. Now we get along like any two people from a moderately weird family and laugh about the moments we thought would kill us. We laugh about our kids- my 2 and his 3, our lives, our family- that gets some real good laughs and our differences. The size difference is just the start- and the most glaring. Most people would not think we are related unless they spoke to both of us for awhile. A dry sense of humor, odd turns of phrase and a strange candor mark us as related.
Since most people by now think he was only evil as a child, let me give an example of the budding camaraderie as we grew up. No one beat up my brother but me. Twisted logic but hey, we were kids. One day we were home at the same time, watching the news when we saw a piece on a woman with leukemia who needed to find a bone marrow donor. There was a drive at a church not terribly far from us. He looked at me and said "Wanna go?" So we went and got tested and listed as potential donors for someone we never met- cause it seemed like the right thing to do. I think I was about 24 or so. He was 4 years younger then, too. The day that my grandfather died in January 1999, we drove all around making arrangements with the funeral home and then to the VA to get a flag since he had been in the Army in WWII. I remember him showing his Army ID and getting in no problem while I beeped my little heart out in the metal detector. To this day I have no idea what was beeping- I was ready to (and said so out loud) strip naked and go to the 7th floor of the old Dulski Federal building in Buffalo to get the flag but the guard finally waved me over for a hand held wand check- which DIDN"T beep. I had taken off my coat and the pile of stuff on it was impressive- I had no idea jeans pockets could hole so much. My brother made sure to point out I got waved over as I threatened to strip naked- hmmmm I think I was being insulted. We got through the day and got everything set up pretty well for a pair who had never done that sort of thing before. His good friend Dave Z., also Army, showed up in uniform for the service- in a freezing cold damn blizzard- to present the flag and stand at attention for the fallen soldier. I guess he has to be a good guy to have friends like Dave.
So my brother is Army- he's in Iraq for his third time. If all soldiers were as upstanding as my brother there would be no questions about improper behavior. One thing I can say without fear of being challenged- the boy's got Honor. That's right Honor with a capital H. It's a big thing to my family to behave and live an honorable life. He's still my little brother and NOBODY gets to beat him up but me, and his kids and my kids. Nobody else. So I'm going to close this with the same thing I say everyday when I wake up- "God keep him safe and get him home OK."
Happy Birthday kiddo, may you have many, many more.
Wednesday, October 1, 2008
Happy October
October first- the day I start the Halloween decorating. The first day of bats, rats, witches, skeletons and all things ghoulish, spooky and bumpity in the night. I love Halloween- cobwebs are a good thing for once, I can indulge my inner witch and display witches hats and wands, little jars (they were baby food jars in a previous life) of things that may or may not be creepy. Lets face it- appearances and packaging can do quite a bit to sway our opinion. Little white ball cake decorations with black food coloring dots on them or newt eyes? Who can be sure???? Chocolate chips or newborn dragon droppings? This is a month when most people seem to avoid eating at my house- Hmmmmm, I wonder why. I love baby food jars for their many uses- all season decor and food storage.
I love Halloween for the amazing misunderstood pagan celebration of Samhain. I'm Celtic and many of the old festivals have been translated into today's holidays. There is no devil worship in Samhain- just good old spooky belief that it is the day when the veil between worlds is at it's thinnest and the final harvest is done along with preparations begun for the winter. There is a more in depth explanation at http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Samhain it's not great but it'll do for now. I'll celebrate Halloween with a party for some of the kids nearest and dearest and our friends. Hopefully there will be a nice day so we can start the bonfire and roast marshmallows and make s'mores, run around the yard and generally have fun with friends at the end of the outdoor party season. We will rake a big leaf pile and jump in, pick apples and dip them in caramel and make merry while the sun shines, for in this region who knows when the first snow storm will hit. I'm hoping for sometime after the 31st.
So I'm starting to get the old house in the Halloween mood- silhouettes of bats, rats and witches will adorn most windows, pumpkins on the porch steps, corn stalks on the porch rail, maybe some spider webs, unexpected guests in corners and who knows what else will pop into my odd little mind. Did I mention living by the cemetery? There is a house between me and it but they built way out back and so the only thing between me and the cemetery would be a driveway. I'm putting some gravestones in the front garden as well. Maybe a stray hand or foot with them as well as the cauldron of bones on the side porch. #1 is adamant that we decorate for every possible holiday. Do you know how hard it is to find decorations for all those secondary and tertiary holidays, like arbor day and groundhog day? I thought I liked to have a party but this kid should be an event planner. She also has no problem telling me she likes to arrange things so they look 'fabulous', as opposed to how they looked ("Ok") when I did them. My domain of decor is that which she cannot reach- which means it's getting smaller each year. Once it's more decorated I'll post some photos. We're still deciding costume details so I can't give any ideas about who to expect to see other than a witch. I may even be in costume ha ha ha ha.
I love Halloween for the amazing misunderstood pagan celebration of Samhain. I'm Celtic and many of the old festivals have been translated into today's holidays. There is no devil worship in Samhain- just good old spooky belief that it is the day when the veil between worlds is at it's thinnest and the final harvest is done along with preparations begun for the winter. There is a more in depth explanation at http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Samhain it's not great but it'll do for now. I'll celebrate Halloween with a party for some of the kids nearest and dearest and our friends. Hopefully there will be a nice day so we can start the bonfire and roast marshmallows and make s'mores, run around the yard and generally have fun with friends at the end of the outdoor party season. We will rake a big leaf pile and jump in, pick apples and dip them in caramel and make merry while the sun shines, for in this region who knows when the first snow storm will hit. I'm hoping for sometime after the 31st.
So I'm starting to get the old house in the Halloween mood- silhouettes of bats, rats and witches will adorn most windows, pumpkins on the porch steps, corn stalks on the porch rail, maybe some spider webs, unexpected guests in corners and who knows what else will pop into my odd little mind. Did I mention living by the cemetery? There is a house between me and it but they built way out back and so the only thing between me and the cemetery would be a driveway. I'm putting some gravestones in the front garden as well. Maybe a stray hand or foot with them as well as the cauldron of bones on the side porch. #1 is adamant that we decorate for every possible holiday. Do you know how hard it is to find decorations for all those secondary and tertiary holidays, like arbor day and groundhog day? I thought I liked to have a party but this kid should be an event planner. She also has no problem telling me she likes to arrange things so they look 'fabulous', as opposed to how they looked ("Ok") when I did them. My domain of decor is that which she cannot reach- which means it's getting smaller each year. Once it's more decorated I'll post some photos. We're still deciding costume details so I can't give any ideas about who to expect to see other than a witch. I may even be in costume ha ha ha ha.
Thursday, September 11, 2008
Needle felting
What is needle felting? It is the unique use of a special barbed needle, wool and an idea. All you need to succeed is a pad to protect yourself from the needle, the needle and wool. I use a large chuck of leftover upholstery foam for large work and a small chunk for smaller work. I like to be flexible. The needle is jabbed into the wool to cause tangling of the fiber which shapes the wool into whatever you want.
Sounds easy right? With some practice and a few pointers, it is easy- and fun. Poke straight up and down- don't bend the needle as it will snap very easily. Keep your fingers clear, like all needles it is sharp. When (not if) you jab yourself, stop and wash it out. First- get any possible bacteria off your finger and secondly (more importantly, if you're like me) don't get blood on your work. What are the limits? Many as you start but as you get better your imagination and time limits are the only limits. You need to experiment with wool types, ideas and what your preferences are. Some like very densely felted items while others like a softer more squishy felted object. I flux between the two depending on what I'm working on. Mostly I like to make small animals and mini dolls. Some have a wire armature so I can change the poses while others are static poses.
The seated squirrel with the acorn to the left is static while the climber is wired and can move his arms and legs a bit for hanging onto a tree of whatever. They are both all wool, not sewn but wrapped and poked into shape. #1 also needle felts but she works in flat images. We are having a display and demonstration at the Marilla Ag Day celebration on Sept. 14. A few examples of my animals and a book of #1's work along with knit then wet felted bowls by my mother will be on display. I love working in wool- it's fun, soft and amazingly forgiving as a medium. Like sculpting clay you can always add more or remove some to fix an area. The funny part is how you may start working toward one thing and find that the wool wanted to be something else so you switch gears and finish with something totally different from what you started.
And then there is the piece who starts and ends exactly as you knew it would. A small bird for my Christmas tree just needed to be simple and soft. The wool gives them an individual feel that can't be easily explained. It's like hair color- no matter how hard you try to cover grey and match your own color it's always just a bit different. Trust me there.
When you first try needle felting it's odd to make a 3D item. You start with a big puff of wool- now what? You can roll it around a wood skewer to get a start on a tight ball or you can roll by hand then start needling to keep it together. the more you needle an area the tighter it gets in that area. This allows you to sculpt subtle or big accents. You can also add on accents (like wings)by needling through the new piece into the original. These are pretty delicate in terms of play. If you pull on what you needled it can come off. I tell the kids these toys are more decorative and not good for rough play. If I'm going to make a toy for real play I sew accents on with a couple of stitches for security. nothing worse that having a cute little bird lose a wing mid flight to kill the game.
Where can you get the wool and needles? Many craft shops are now carrying the basic supplies near their yarn. Online stores are my favorite since the selection is huge. Just search needle felting, wool roving or felting and you will get hits. There are several books out about both flat and 3D needle felting. This is just a starting place. I like the wool colors I've gotten from this ebay seller and have actually met him at a weavers guild sale in Lewiston, NY.
Wool and supplies:
http://stores.ebay.com/WINDERWOODFARM_W0QQssPageNameZstrkQ3amefsxQ3asstQQtZkm I have this book and love the pictures and information.
http://www.woolpets.com/book.html
Sounds easy right? With some practice and a few pointers, it is easy- and fun. Poke straight up and down- don't bend the needle as it will snap very easily. Keep your fingers clear, like all needles it is sharp. When (not if) you jab yourself, stop and wash it out. First- get any possible bacteria off your finger and secondly (more importantly, if you're like me) don't get blood on your work. What are the limits? Many as you start but as you get better your imagination and time limits are the only limits. You need to experiment with wool types, ideas and what your preferences are. Some like very densely felted items while others like a softer more squishy felted object. I flux between the two depending on what I'm working on. Mostly I like to make small animals and mini dolls. Some have a wire armature so I can change the poses while others are static poses.
The seated squirrel with the acorn to the left is static while the climber is wired and can move his arms and legs a bit for hanging onto a tree of whatever. They are both all wool, not sewn but wrapped and poked into shape. #1 also needle felts but she works in flat images. We are having a display and demonstration at the Marilla Ag Day celebration on Sept. 14. A few examples of my animals and a book of #1's work along with knit then wet felted bowls by my mother will be on display. I love working in wool- it's fun, soft and amazingly forgiving as a medium. Like sculpting clay you can always add more or remove some to fix an area. The funny part is how you may start working toward one thing and find that the wool wanted to be something else so you switch gears and finish with something totally different from what you started.
And then there is the piece who starts and ends exactly as you knew it would. A small bird for my Christmas tree just needed to be simple and soft. The wool gives them an individual feel that can't be easily explained. It's like hair color- no matter how hard you try to cover grey and match your own color it's always just a bit different. Trust me there.When you first try needle felting it's odd to make a 3D item. You start with a big puff of wool- now what? You can roll it around a wood skewer to get a start on a tight ball or you can roll by hand then start needling to keep it together. the more you needle an area the tighter it gets in that area. This allows you to sculpt subtle or big accents. You can also add on accents (like wings)by needling through the new piece into the original. These are pretty delicate in terms of play. If you pull on what you needled it can come off. I tell the kids these toys are more decorative and not good for rough play. If I'm going to make a toy for real play I sew accents on with a couple of stitches for security. nothing worse that having a cute little bird lose a wing mid flight to kill the game.
Where can you get the wool and needles? Many craft shops are now carrying the basic supplies near their yarn. Online stores are my favorite since the selection is huge. Just search needle felting, wool roving or felting and you will get hits. There are several books out about both flat and 3D needle felting. This is just a starting place. I like the wool colors I've gotten from this ebay seller and have actually met him at a weavers guild sale in Lewiston, NY.
Wool and supplies:
http://stores.ebay.com/WINDERWOODFARM_W0QQssPageNameZstrkQ3amefsxQ3asstQQtZkm I have this book and love the pictures and information.
http://www.woolpets.com/book.html
September 11
I remember, like so many others do, where I was and what I was doing on this date in 2001. I was in the kitchen making breakfast for my then four and a half month old daughter. The radio was on to wben 930 when I heard the news that the World Trade Center had been hit by a plane. I remember thinking that that had to be a horrible accident until a few minutes later there was a second plane flown into the second tower. I realized we were under attack in our own country. It didn't matter that I was in a kitchen nearly 400 miles from the Towers, I was stunned. Breakfast was served that day in front of the television while watching the news, not cartoons. As the day unfolded calls flew to family and I later had to drive to work to switch finished paperwork for that which needed to be done. I drove as glued to the radio as everyone else. Work was in such a state, decisions were being made to not only close the office but to totally power down everything in case of further attacks or power interruptions. As I drove home I was thinking of my uncle, in midtown manhattan. My mother had spoken to him and he was fine and well out of harms way but just to have someone close to NYC was very intense.
The nerve to strike at our military by hitting the Pentagon! Did anyone really believe this would cripple the U.S.A.?? I think the heroes on Flight 93 are a good example of why that will never work. I heard the President today giving a speech that spoke of the steel and stone that the plane broke at the Pentagon and I immediately thought of the bodies that were broken that day but that the spirit was not broken. At the Pentagon, a group rushed and grabbed the flag and that reminds me that the USA is so much more than we hear. We live in a super power, some hate us for our excesses, or waste, or debauchery but they don't understand that none of that is what makes this country strong. It isn't the Hollywood celebrities or news making celebutantes who revel in the pathetic and unimportant, it isn't the politicians who believe everything they say to be gospel. It's the people who go about their lives everyday to make so much possible for so many. People who stop to help someone in need without batting an eye or expecting a reward. People who respect the need we have to be different from each other. We may not be able to get along all the time but in times of tragedy- so many differences, of opinion, belief, color, ethnicity- can be put aside to stand shoulder to shoulder against a threat. Terror does not work against this mentality. Terror only works against a beaten down, already terrorized population.
The news today talked of all the flags on display on September 12, 2001. Stores sold out of flags and people painted flags on their houses, made signs and flags out of anything. How many fly the flag today? I do. Our town puts the flag out for all summer on the utility poles. We also put up holiday banners for Christmas. It's a small town, a nice place to live and raise kids. We know our neighbors and help each other. We have town celebrations and work hard to remain a small town with small town values. We wave to farmers on large equipment as it rolls slowly by, we yell "Dinner's down" at 6 pm when the fire whistle sounds and we know that it's a real fire call when the whistle blows the old air raid tone. The kids move away from the street when that happens since the volunteers will be coming to the firehall quickly to help a neighbor or stranger who needs help. I buy fresh corn from the honor stand in front of the farm where it was grown. We have bonfires and roast marshmallows for fun on crisp fall evenings. We go out and help a neighbor clear snow or downed branches, trade plants from our gardens and laugh over funny moments.
Why am I so sure the USA will withstand any attack from outsiders? They don't know us. Most are like me- going about their business, trying to raise a family in peace and generally mild mannered. But when push comes to shove, we will not quit, we won't turn away and hide. We will stand up and do what needs to be done. We go where we need and try to help people through disasters all over the world with little thought for ourselves. We are just tough enough to get the job done and that is, as Martha would say, a good thing.
The nerve to strike at our military by hitting the Pentagon! Did anyone really believe this would cripple the U.S.A.?? I think the heroes on Flight 93 are a good example of why that will never work. I heard the President today giving a speech that spoke of the steel and stone that the plane broke at the Pentagon and I immediately thought of the bodies that were broken that day but that the spirit was not broken. At the Pentagon, a group rushed and grabbed the flag and that reminds me that the USA is so much more than we hear. We live in a super power, some hate us for our excesses, or waste, or debauchery but they don't understand that none of that is what makes this country strong. It isn't the Hollywood celebrities or news making celebutantes who revel in the pathetic and unimportant, it isn't the politicians who believe everything they say to be gospel. It's the people who go about their lives everyday to make so much possible for so many. People who stop to help someone in need without batting an eye or expecting a reward. People who respect the need we have to be different from each other. We may not be able to get along all the time but in times of tragedy- so many differences, of opinion, belief, color, ethnicity- can be put aside to stand shoulder to shoulder against a threat. Terror does not work against this mentality. Terror only works against a beaten down, already terrorized population.
The news today talked of all the flags on display on September 12, 2001. Stores sold out of flags and people painted flags on their houses, made signs and flags out of anything. How many fly the flag today? I do. Our town puts the flag out for all summer on the utility poles. We also put up holiday banners for Christmas. It's a small town, a nice place to live and raise kids. We know our neighbors and help each other. We have town celebrations and work hard to remain a small town with small town values. We wave to farmers on large equipment as it rolls slowly by, we yell "Dinner's down" at 6 pm when the fire whistle sounds and we know that it's a real fire call when the whistle blows the old air raid tone. The kids move away from the street when that happens since the volunteers will be coming to the firehall quickly to help a neighbor or stranger who needs help. I buy fresh corn from the honor stand in front of the farm where it was grown. We have bonfires and roast marshmallows for fun on crisp fall evenings. We go out and help a neighbor clear snow or downed branches, trade plants from our gardens and laugh over funny moments.
Why am I so sure the USA will withstand any attack from outsiders? They don't know us. Most are like me- going about their business, trying to raise a family in peace and generally mild mannered. But when push comes to shove, we will not quit, we won't turn away and hide. We will stand up and do what needs to be done. We go where we need and try to help people through disasters all over the world with little thought for ourselves. We are just tough enough to get the job done and that is, as Martha would say, a good thing.
Monday, September 1, 2008
A Dog, a Ball and a Nightmare.
I just learned about this blog today. My sister in law in Tennessee emailed me about the boycott and asked me to do the same. I investigated the whole thing as far as I can- check the company website for any sign of doing the right thing and recalling the product, read the blog on the dog victim and then forward to my dog show world connections. I'm appalled at the response, or total lack of, of this company. Here's the link to the owners blog. http://www.thechaistory.blogspot.com/
Let me know what you think.
In the meantime, here's what I think. I think if this was marketed as a kids toy it'd be all over the news. The recall would be announced on all major news channels and the CPSC (http://www.cpsc.gov/) would be sending me an email announcement. Pets get a short stick. Yeah, yeah- I know dogs aren't kids- blah blah blah. In my house they are- so there! Arthur is just as much a family member as #1 and #2. Don't bother to start about that- you'd be preaching to the willfully deaf. I grew up with dogs- breeding, training and showing them. They have slept on my bed and I've slept on the floor by a sick dog as much as or probably more than I've slept with my kids when they're sick. They all (kids and pets alike) beg and plead for what they want, they all want more of my attention than they think they get and they all are spoiled. Most days I'd rather have Arthur with me for a long ride in the car- no "are we there yet?", "can we play my CD?", "I'm hungry." etc. Nope- he'll ride shotgun for as long as I want. When he's tired or bored there is no whining about it- he just goes to sleep. He even rides buckled in- no kidding. He's got a harness and it clips to the seatbelt. At 70 pounds he wasn't going to ride on one of those little doggy seats for the itty bitty bunch. Arthur can see out the window from his seat without help. I like the dog as a family member. We chose to drive all the way to New Jersey to buy him from a breeder who raised the bullies in the house with her kids. We spent a good penny for him to get a true example of the breed. He puts up with everything the kids can dish out and never gives them a cross look. He can go to his rug (big heap of blankets he configures to his satisfaction) and be done with them although that doesn't happen often. He worships both kids- where else will a dog get attention, sloppy eaters who drop all sorts of tasty treats, the coolest toys left everywhere- some have lights and make noise when sat on by man or beast. #2 is great for opening the fridge and not caring who steals from the lower shelves. Not to mention the need #1 has to give biscuits and help train him. He'd rather sleep on the sofa with #2 climbing all over him than on his rug without #2. It's a very codependent relationship the little beasts have going. Add the cats to that and some days it's like living in a zoo- or an insane asylum after the inmates have taken over. Guess what- I'm raising the wee folk in the same vein. #1 is already going to dog shows and matches. My life is complete- another generation has gone to the dogs!
You're right- it's not Arthur. Arthur is not a conformation dog. This little furry friend belongs to #1s 3rd Grandma. A very good friend of the family and my first official employer, Marilyn, or Miss Marilyn, as #1 calls her, is another one of the kids fan club. This was at the Kennel Club of Niagara Falls sanctioned match earlier this year. The poodle took First place, Best of Breed and a group fourth. Not bad for a 7 year old who doesn't own the dog so she can't practice till she drops. The good news is- everyone there was most gracious to the kid and she really enjoyed the experience. The thrill of the ribbons and being treated like the adult exhibitors (in her mind) but with the kindness and encouragement necessary to raise the baby handlers up right really made her feel special. A big thanks to all who interacted with her that day- I'm sure you all know who you are. Every kindness shown to kids at shows helps develop the next generation of exhibitors to be the best they can be.
Back to the poor dog in the story this started about- I hope his life returns to a happy state and he adapts to his loss. It's such a rotten thing to happen just because the ball had only one hole and if you're chewing on it (c'mon folks- a chew toy???) when your tongue is on the hole it could get pulled into the hole. That's just twisted. Has anyone out there tried to tell a dog not to get his tongue near the hole on his chew toy? I'm sure someone has- people do the darndest things-have they had any luck??? If so- can you email me and help me teach #2 not to sit on balloons and then be surprised when they pop on his butt?? But (pardon the pun) that's a whole other story...
Have a Happy Labor Day, folks.
Let me know what you think.
In the meantime, here's what I think. I think if this was marketed as a kids toy it'd be all over the news. The recall would be announced on all major news channels and the CPSC (http://www.cpsc.gov/) would be sending me an email announcement. Pets get a short stick. Yeah, yeah- I know dogs aren't kids- blah blah blah. In my house they are- so there! Arthur is just as much a family member as #1 and #2. Don't bother to start about that- you'd be preaching to the willfully deaf. I grew up with dogs- breeding, training and showing them. They have slept on my bed and I've slept on the floor by a sick dog as much as or probably more than I've slept with my kids when they're sick. They all (kids and pets alike) beg and plead for what they want, they all want more of my attention than they think they get and they all are spoiled. Most days I'd rather have Arthur with me for a long ride in the car- no "are we there yet?", "can we play my CD?", "I'm hungry." etc. Nope- he'll ride shotgun for as long as I want. When he's tired or bored there is no whining about it- he just goes to sleep. He even rides buckled in- no kidding. He's got a harness and it clips to the seatbelt. At 70 pounds he wasn't going to ride on one of those little doggy seats for the itty bitty bunch. Arthur can see out the window from his seat without help. I like the dog as a family member. We chose to drive all the way to New Jersey to buy him from a breeder who raised the bullies in the house with her kids. We spent a good penny for him to get a true example of the breed. He puts up with everything the kids can dish out and never gives them a cross look. He can go to his rug (big heap of blankets he configures to his satisfaction) and be done with them although that doesn't happen often. He worships both kids- where else will a dog get attention, sloppy eaters who drop all sorts of tasty treats, the coolest toys left everywhere- some have lights and make noise when sat on by man or beast. #2 is great for opening the fridge and not caring who steals from the lower shelves. Not to mention the need #1 has to give biscuits and help train him. He'd rather sleep on the sofa with #2 climbing all over him than on his rug without #2. It's a very codependent relationship the little beasts have going. Add the cats to that and some days it's like living in a zoo- or an insane asylum after the inmates have taken over. Guess what- I'm raising the wee folk in the same vein. #1 is already going to dog shows and matches. My life is complete- another generation has gone to the dogs!
You're right- it's not Arthur. Arthur is not a conformation dog. This little furry friend belongs to #1s 3rd Grandma. A very good friend of the family and my first official employer, Marilyn, or Miss Marilyn, as #1 calls her, is another one of the kids fan club. This was at the Kennel Club of Niagara Falls sanctioned match earlier this year. The poodle took First place, Best of Breed and a group fourth. Not bad for a 7 year old who doesn't own the dog so she can't practice till she drops. The good news is- everyone there was most gracious to the kid and she really enjoyed the experience. The thrill of the ribbons and being treated like the adult exhibitors (in her mind) but with the kindness and encouragement necessary to raise the baby handlers up right really made her feel special. A big thanks to all who interacted with her that day- I'm sure you all know who you are. Every kindness shown to kids at shows helps develop the next generation of exhibitors to be the best they can be.
Back to the poor dog in the story this started about- I hope his life returns to a happy state and he adapts to his loss. It's such a rotten thing to happen just because the ball had only one hole and if you're chewing on it (c'mon folks- a chew toy???) when your tongue is on the hole it could get pulled into the hole. That's just twisted. Has anyone out there tried to tell a dog not to get his tongue near the hole on his chew toy? I'm sure someone has- people do the darndest things-have they had any luck??? If so- can you email me and help me teach #2 not to sit on balloons and then be surprised when they pop on his butt?? But (pardon the pun) that's a whole other story...
Have a Happy Labor Day, folks.
Thursday, August 14, 2008
Happy Birthday, Mom!
Happy birthday to my mom. I hope you have a great day. As usual, your gift will be late. I guess it's mostly the weekday vs. weekend thing that has me running late. For once the gift was easy- I've known for months what to get you. Hee hee, I love it when things just snap into place with absolutely no room for second guessing. Just as a tantalizing teaser on the present, did you ever find something perfect when you're not even thinking about the need for a gift? Last fall, I saw this item at the town General Store (which is on a tour bus route!) and immediately knew who HAD to have it. Now to remember to wrap it before she gets here Saturday to pick up #1 for an overnight.
My mother and I are very alike and not alike at the same time. We shared the typical love-hate relationship and have gotten past all that to be actual friends. While so many parents and adult children are still trying to figure out where the lines of parent/child vs. friend/friend should be, we sorted that stuff out years ago. I am always amazed at how many parents still boss their kids around after they are gerown with their own families. I am even more amazed at how some of the adult kids will still obey but gripe about the bossing. I'm glad that we sorted all that out. Now we can talk and joke and go places with the kids and not have the tension. She is fun to take to local festivals and events, I never have to worry about the kids and how they behave or if she will be shocked or appalled by #2's occasional tantrums (they can be spectacular!!!). I learned to not worry about what other people think from her- or at least to not let anyone know I'm worried about what other people think. Let's face it- all most people know about you is what you let them see. I also learned most of my bad words from her so I have A LOT to be thankful to her for just in that area alone!! Really though, she is a great mother. She is very supportive of us in our child rearing beliefs and in the different things we try with each child. She also doesn't nail me to the wall for the raging hypocrisy of which I am guilty. I am doing so many of the things that I hated when she did them. I tell my kids life isn't fair and neither am I - fair is a place you go in the summer to eat lots of fried dough and cotton candy- it's got nothing to do with our family life. Fair would mean each child gets exactly the same amount of toys, clothes and overnight trips to the grandmas houses. #1 knows she has it easier than #2 and she is usually good with the idea that each one gets priviledges according to their behavior- not age or fairness. As one needs clothes, they get clothes- not just because the other got some. It helps that #2 doesn't care for clothes but you all know what I mean.
My mother in law is also great but I'll do more on her another day- this is a tribute to my mom for her birthday. My mom is very artistic and always has been. Back in the day (more years than I care to count) she did leather crafting- carving and stamping a picture into leather. She did huge wall pictures and small key fobs, purses, belts, wallets, etc. I still have my horse carved belt she gave me when I was about 11 or 12 as well as a wallet, also horses. I had a real horse hang up as a pre teen and teen. She painted a denim workshirt with horse themed initials and a horse head for me around the same age. My stick figures usually need explanation but I've come to terms with that and don't hate her for her ability anymore. Another few decades and I may be able to entirely over look that injustice ;). Anywho- my mother is the person most responsible for my ability to out swear most sailors, BS my way through the most embarrassing moments on earth without anyone knowing I just want the earth to swallow me alive and my fierce sense of loyalty. So here's to you, Mom- happy birthday and many more.
Lordy, lordy I swear by the sun-
Rosie is fifty-nine plus one!!
Sorry mom but not much rhymes with sixty- kicks me isn't quite close enough but I also didn't want to give you any ideas.
My mother and I are very alike and not alike at the same time. We shared the typical love-hate relationship and have gotten past all that to be actual friends. While so many parents and adult children are still trying to figure out where the lines of parent/child vs. friend/friend should be, we sorted that stuff out years ago. I am always amazed at how many parents still boss their kids around after they are gerown with their own families. I am even more amazed at how some of the adult kids will still obey but gripe about the bossing. I'm glad that we sorted all that out. Now we can talk and joke and go places with the kids and not have the tension. She is fun to take to local festivals and events, I never have to worry about the kids and how they behave or if she will be shocked or appalled by #2's occasional tantrums (they can be spectacular!!!). I learned to not worry about what other people think from her- or at least to not let anyone know I'm worried about what other people think. Let's face it- all most people know about you is what you let them see. I also learned most of my bad words from her so I have A LOT to be thankful to her for just in that area alone!! Really though, she is a great mother. She is very supportive of us in our child rearing beliefs and in the different things we try with each child. She also doesn't nail me to the wall for the raging hypocrisy of which I am guilty. I am doing so many of the things that I hated when she did them. I tell my kids life isn't fair and neither am I - fair is a place you go in the summer to eat lots of fried dough and cotton candy- it's got nothing to do with our family life. Fair would mean each child gets exactly the same amount of toys, clothes and overnight trips to the grandmas houses. #1 knows she has it easier than #2 and she is usually good with the idea that each one gets priviledges according to their behavior- not age or fairness. As one needs clothes, they get clothes- not just because the other got some. It helps that #2 doesn't care for clothes but you all know what I mean.
My mother in law is also great but I'll do more on her another day- this is a tribute to my mom for her birthday. My mom is very artistic and always has been. Back in the day (more years than I care to count) she did leather crafting- carving and stamping a picture into leather. She did huge wall pictures and small key fobs, purses, belts, wallets, etc. I still have my horse carved belt she gave me when I was about 11 or 12 as well as a wallet, also horses. I had a real horse hang up as a pre teen and teen. She painted a denim workshirt with horse themed initials and a horse head for me around the same age. My stick figures usually need explanation but I've come to terms with that and don't hate her for her ability anymore. Another few decades and I may be able to entirely over look that injustice ;). Anywho- my mother is the person most responsible for my ability to out swear most sailors, BS my way through the most embarrassing moments on earth without anyone knowing I just want the earth to swallow me alive and my fierce sense of loyalty. So here's to you, Mom- happy birthday and many more.
Lordy, lordy I swear by the sun-
Rosie is fifty-nine plus one!!
Sorry mom but not much rhymes with sixty- kicks me isn't quite close enough but I also didn't want to give you any ideas.
Tuesday, August 5, 2008
Renovations March On
This is drywall the upstairs of the extension week. That means I am tied to the house so the work can be done. Have you ever noticed how, as soon as you can't do something (leave house) you have a bunch of things pop into your head that you could be doing (school shopping)?? The work is moving along well and looks good. Since I am not trying to hang the drywall I am happy. That stuff is heavy!! I'm splitting my time at home this week between trying to do a bunch of things I've been putting off while Hubby was home (he's travelling for work this week) and fooling around on the computer. Guess which group is going to get more of my time.....
#2 has 1 1/2 weeks left of his summer program and then it's a break and off to kindergarten. I'm still getting all the stuff ready for both to go to school and haven't really had the chance to stop and think about the fact that the baby is going to school. I think I'm supposed to feel sad or like I want another but it's just not there. I tend to be very matter of fact and not prone to sudden tears so I'm betting this is like #1's first day of kindergarten 2 years ago- hang out and wonder what I've forgotten to put in the backpack and hope she makes nice friends. And take a dozen photos of her in front of the house waiting for the bus in her cute first day outfit. Note to self- gotta get #2 a first day of school outfit. We got the backpack and lunch bag- the back pack is almost as tall as he is and twice as wide so that ought to make a great picture- my kid the turtle. Both are taking after me in the skinny lanky look. Either of them would have to stand up twice to cast a shadow (as my step father so eloquently described me once- but I was an adult and beyond the self conscious phase). Hey Richard, too bad you didn't get to meet these guys- they are quite a pair and I'd bet they would give you a run for your money. My step-dad died in 1998, my mother had worried that he and I wouldn't get along. We were opposites in many ways- He was VERY tall (6'7!!!) and I'm NOT, he was a hunter and I'm a take care of the little critter kind- not that I'm against hunting but I can't eat it if I knew it. The list of opposites goes on and on while the only similarity was that we are both opinionated. The recipe for clash was writ large here, folks. Oddly enough, we got along quite well- once we worked out that we could have differing opinions without the world ending. We both got a kick out of the darndest things. He could laugh with or at me for my softie tendencies without my hitting the ceiling and I had no problem saying things like "sit down I want to look you in the eye". Perhaps it was finding out that we both knew lots of bad words and could use them really well without being offended by the others use- shock value is not reserved for teenagers- it works equally well far into the adult years. As a matter of fact it gets more shocking to hear certain words fall out of someones mouth as they get older. I think it was mostly the fact that we were both adults (ok with some tendencies toward childish pranks) when she met him, plus my parents weren't divorced- my dad died unexpectedly and young when I was in college. I didn't view him as competition for my mothers attention as much as a great diversion for her. And of course there was no question of my parents getting back together if not for him- a dead parent doesn't have the same emotional turmoil as a divorced parent. The upshot here is that he would have gotten a real kick out of these two. But then I have a whole cadre of dead relatives I think would have loved these two (not just because of the family thing, either). Ok, enough dead family for today.
So I'm spending most of my free time doing needle felting for a fall festival in town. I've got to put together a display of items, an information display and will be demonstrating the technique. #1 is helping me with this project and will have a scrapbook of her flat work there. Needle felting, for those who have never heard of it, is the use of specially designed barbed needles to poke wool and cause it to tangle. The tangling is what causes it to dry felt. Dry felting is different from wet felting in many ways- one being no water used. For a detailed explanation visit my website-
http://electricmomma.googlepages.com/home and click the needle felting page. I have to get some photos on the website and maybe a video if the basic techniques. #1 is very keen on making a video since she discovered You Tube. Most of what I do is 3D animals. Some are done over a wire armature and that allows some gentle posing. The rest are static pose animals. They aren't meant for children to play with so much as for collecting. It's amazing how quickly the creative well runs dry when there is a deadline on the horizon. So I need to run off and make an armature of a small squirrel that I want to get working on.
#2 has 1 1/2 weeks left of his summer program and then it's a break and off to kindergarten. I'm still getting all the stuff ready for both to go to school and haven't really had the chance to stop and think about the fact that the baby is going to school. I think I'm supposed to feel sad or like I want another but it's just not there. I tend to be very matter of fact and not prone to sudden tears so I'm betting this is like #1's first day of kindergarten 2 years ago- hang out and wonder what I've forgotten to put in the backpack and hope she makes nice friends. And take a dozen photos of her in front of the house waiting for the bus in her cute first day outfit. Note to self- gotta get #2 a first day of school outfit. We got the backpack and lunch bag- the back pack is almost as tall as he is and twice as wide so that ought to make a great picture- my kid the turtle. Both are taking after me in the skinny lanky look. Either of them would have to stand up twice to cast a shadow (as my step father so eloquently described me once- but I was an adult and beyond the self conscious phase). Hey Richard, too bad you didn't get to meet these guys- they are quite a pair and I'd bet they would give you a run for your money. My step-dad died in 1998, my mother had worried that he and I wouldn't get along. We were opposites in many ways- He was VERY tall (6'7!!!) and I'm NOT, he was a hunter and I'm a take care of the little critter kind- not that I'm against hunting but I can't eat it if I knew it. The list of opposites goes on and on while the only similarity was that we are both opinionated. The recipe for clash was writ large here, folks. Oddly enough, we got along quite well- once we worked out that we could have differing opinions without the world ending. We both got a kick out of the darndest things. He could laugh with or at me for my softie tendencies without my hitting the ceiling and I had no problem saying things like "sit down I want to look you in the eye". Perhaps it was finding out that we both knew lots of bad words and could use them really well without being offended by the others use- shock value is not reserved for teenagers- it works equally well far into the adult years. As a matter of fact it gets more shocking to hear certain words fall out of someones mouth as they get older. I think it was mostly the fact that we were both adults (ok with some tendencies toward childish pranks) when she met him, plus my parents weren't divorced- my dad died unexpectedly and young when I was in college. I didn't view him as competition for my mothers attention as much as a great diversion for her. And of course there was no question of my parents getting back together if not for him- a dead parent doesn't have the same emotional turmoil as a divorced parent. The upshot here is that he would have gotten a real kick out of these two. But then I have a whole cadre of dead relatives I think would have loved these two (not just because of the family thing, either). Ok, enough dead family for today.
So I'm spending most of my free time doing needle felting for a fall festival in town. I've got to put together a display of items, an information display and will be demonstrating the technique. #1 is helping me with this project and will have a scrapbook of her flat work there. Needle felting, for those who have never heard of it, is the use of specially designed barbed needles to poke wool and cause it to tangle. The tangling is what causes it to dry felt. Dry felting is different from wet felting in many ways- one being no water used. For a detailed explanation visit my website-
http://electricmomma.googlepages.com/home and click the needle felting page. I have to get some photos on the website and maybe a video if the basic techniques. #1 is very keen on making a video since she discovered You Tube. Most of what I do is 3D animals. Some are done over a wire armature and that allows some gentle posing. The rest are static pose animals. They aren't meant for children to play with so much as for collecting. It's amazing how quickly the creative well runs dry when there is a deadline on the horizon. So I need to run off and make an armature of a small squirrel that I want to get working on.
Friday, July 25, 2008
Autism is in the media lately
I guess there was a rant by Michael Savage on a radio show last week or around then claiming autism has to do with poor parenting and over diagnosis. I didn't hear it and despite a google search I can't find the rant in a full clip. The best I can do is some shorter clips on http://www.savageonautism.com/
I guess the whole thing lasted 84 seconds. At first I was ticked off- to say the least. Don't call my kid an idiot or moron, don't accuse me of fraud for having #2 tested and getting services through the school to help him have a more 'normal' life (I'll discuss normal another time), and DO NOT make it seem like I don't bust my fanny trying to raise good kids. Then I realized it took 5 minutes to push poor #2 naked and wet into this cold world. I know it was 5 minutes between the time my water broke and birth because 1. it was the longest, most painful five minutes and 2. because the nurse timed it. So if I could push that hard for 5 minutes I can do anything, even evaluate-rationally- how the rant left me feeling. I listened to the clips on the above website and realize that I had never heard of this guy before, don't really care what his opinion is, and can't see why I should worry about it. Remember the line about opinions and what they are like (you know- bad word for rectum) and that everyone has one. I'm applying that here.
That said there is something else to be added but not because I have an honest to God autistic, not just spoiled and bratty, boy. When a person is in any position that gives more attention than usual to their opinions I think they should give more than usual consideration to how their comments will be taken. Michael Savage is no more commanding of respect than anyone else- big deal he's got a talk show. Does he have an advanced degree, extraordinary experience or God given special ability? Nope- he's just a guy. The pity is that his words will influence some of his listeners and they will believe his view is gospel. Well, nothing I can do to help them. I'm doing the best I can to raise a child with a disease that most people don't understand. I have my hands full with my two kids and trying to teach them as much as I can each day. I'm not going to call for his termination or rail against the injustice of people like him having an audience. I've listened to radio hosts and agreed and disagreed but I don't let them shape my world views. Talk shows and talk radio are for entertainment, if they can bring awareness to something or help people that's great, but don't expect anything more than entertainment. As for his comment about the money we get for autism- where is it? I'm spending lots of money out of pocket to try and help #2. He gets speech, occupational therapy and special ed. services to help him but autism can be very expensive. We have spent thousands of dollars to install a fence so he can't run into the street- and that's only half of our property done so far. I can go on and on about expenses.
Wanna know the most painful parts of #2's autism? He's never said mommy or daddy to us, no I love you or I missed you, not even the toddler/preschooler harsh words of I hate you. He has no language. He is very affectionate so I know he loves me but I'd gnaw off my own arm to hear him say it. How about the uncertain future- I know, everyone worries about their kids, but my worries are quite a bit different for him than for #1. What about if I die- who will take care of him and help him learn, drag him out into the world to try new things, protect him from the world at the same time and generally be there for him?? Have I done all I can to help him? That's the question that gets me in the night. It's hard enough to wonder if I'm doing the right thing or enough to help him communicate with out someone else adding to my stress. If I think I'm low on my daily dose of stress, I can find ways to add to it myself!
I guess what it all boils down to is who is this Michael Savage to me that makes his opinion more important than anyone else's? Nobody, that's who. I don't need him to lose his job or any such thing. I'm sure that since he's explaining himself so much on the above mentioned website that he is aware of the outrage. But the only thing I hope to see come out of this is more awareness that autism is out there. There are tons of sites ripping this guy apart and spreading the word that autism isn't about lack of discipline or spankings. For myself it's just another small bump in a long hard road. Now I've gotta go and be a mom to 2 kids whose opinions mean a lot more to me than some radio guy.
I guess the whole thing lasted 84 seconds. At first I was ticked off- to say the least. Don't call my kid an idiot or moron, don't accuse me of fraud for having #2 tested and getting services through the school to help him have a more 'normal' life (I'll discuss normal another time), and DO NOT make it seem like I don't bust my fanny trying to raise good kids. Then I realized it took 5 minutes to push poor #2 naked and wet into this cold world. I know it was 5 minutes between the time my water broke and birth because 1. it was the longest, most painful five minutes and 2. because the nurse timed it. So if I could push that hard for 5 minutes I can do anything, even evaluate-rationally- how the rant left me feeling. I listened to the clips on the above website and realize that I had never heard of this guy before, don't really care what his opinion is, and can't see why I should worry about it. Remember the line about opinions and what they are like (you know- bad word for rectum) and that everyone has one. I'm applying that here.
That said there is something else to be added but not because I have an honest to God autistic, not just spoiled and bratty, boy. When a person is in any position that gives more attention than usual to their opinions I think they should give more than usual consideration to how their comments will be taken. Michael Savage is no more commanding of respect than anyone else- big deal he's got a talk show. Does he have an advanced degree, extraordinary experience or God given special ability? Nope- he's just a guy. The pity is that his words will influence some of his listeners and they will believe his view is gospel. Well, nothing I can do to help them. I'm doing the best I can to raise a child with a disease that most people don't understand. I have my hands full with my two kids and trying to teach them as much as I can each day. I'm not going to call for his termination or rail against the injustice of people like him having an audience. I've listened to radio hosts and agreed and disagreed but I don't let them shape my world views. Talk shows and talk radio are for entertainment, if they can bring awareness to something or help people that's great, but don't expect anything more than entertainment. As for his comment about the money we get for autism- where is it? I'm spending lots of money out of pocket to try and help #2. He gets speech, occupational therapy and special ed. services to help him but autism can be very expensive. We have spent thousands of dollars to install a fence so he can't run into the street- and that's only half of our property done so far. I can go on and on about expenses.
Wanna know the most painful parts of #2's autism? He's never said mommy or daddy to us, no I love you or I missed you, not even the toddler/preschooler harsh words of I hate you. He has no language. He is very affectionate so I know he loves me but I'd gnaw off my own arm to hear him say it. How about the uncertain future- I know, everyone worries about their kids, but my worries are quite a bit different for him than for #1. What about if I die- who will take care of him and help him learn, drag him out into the world to try new things, protect him from the world at the same time and generally be there for him?? Have I done all I can to help him? That's the question that gets me in the night. It's hard enough to wonder if I'm doing the right thing or enough to help him communicate with out someone else adding to my stress. If I think I'm low on my daily dose of stress, I can find ways to add to it myself!
I guess what it all boils down to is who is this Michael Savage to me that makes his opinion more important than anyone else's? Nobody, that's who. I don't need him to lose his job or any such thing. I'm sure that since he's explaining himself so much on the above mentioned website that he is aware of the outrage. But the only thing I hope to see come out of this is more awareness that autism is out there. There are tons of sites ripping this guy apart and spreading the word that autism isn't about lack of discipline or spankings. For myself it's just another small bump in a long hard road. Now I've gotta go and be a mom to 2 kids whose opinions mean a lot more to me than some radio guy.
Saturday, July 19, 2008
Harry the Macaw and tales from the darkside
Yesterday my daughter and I had to make a pet shop run. The dog does like to be fed on a regular basis and although he prefers human food, I try and keep a nice dog food diet for the majority of his intake. We headed off to a local Pet Supplies Plus store and met Harry the Macaw. It was stocking time but the people were great. One even opened the cage so we could play with Harry. the Severe Macaw was thrilled- it beat hanging out in his cage watching the shelves get stocked so he came out and ate peanuts while nibbling on our hands. #1 had not been able to play with a large bird before and was thrilled. I could've done without the requests to make Harry her new roommate. Sadly, Harry is not here but he is scheduled to move to another store where he, hopefully, will be purchased soon. Before anyone decides to fill my comments with anything about not buying from pet stores- hold up. We didn't buy him, nor are we going to. It is because 1. we are still remodelling the house and drywall dust isn't good for birds, 2. $1400.00 isn't slated for a bird, 3. I would prefer a Cockatoo or African Grey and 4. the kids are too young, the house too drafty and last but not least Hubby wouldn't be happybut the 3 cats would. Anyways, #1 finally got a pinch on her finger. I think Harry was getting over stimulated by the play and the peanuts. Of course the bird pinched me many times while being gentle to her first but he finally needed to just go back into the cage and calm. Right- Harry wanted to stay out so he went on top of his cage top playground and bobbed his head at me like he was making sure I knew I was too short to get to him. Today we went back to visit and grab a pic of #1 with Harry. I think he remembered us because he was having a grand old time sticking his foot out to 'shake hands' and try to pull me back in through the bars. No bites today- just tons of friendly tasting and rubbing against us. So we have wished the bird bon chance and safe travels. Cute goofball bird.
#1 will be off to Grandma's later for a few days of spoiling and doting. We call it Spa Grandmas ever since she came home and announced "Gramma powders my bum after my bath". Must be nice. I have very fond memories of my own trips to my grandparents as a child but I do not recall bum powdering at any time. I do remember being the center of attention and enjoying every second of it. It was good to be a princess. I think I'm living Cinderellas life in reverse some days- I was a princess and now I'm a scullery maid (not even a good one, though). #2 is staying home to be the prince of the manor so I'll have to put off most of the scullery work until he's in school during the week. #2 likes to involve himself when I'm trying to clean- not help, just involve himself somehow. The only problem is his involvement usually throws a spanner in the works. Either he slows the process to a virtual stand still or he makes more of a mess than I can work around. The easiest way to clean is to wait until he's at school and go nuts. Once while sorting the playroom toybox and packing the old, outgrown toys to go to Goodwill I caught him trying to climb in the big black trash bag- oh the temptation ;). I know- don't joke about sending the kids to Goodwill- someone, somewhere has probably done it or will do it soon. I joked about Ebay and auctioning them off to the lowest bidder and sure enough, some twit did try to auction her life for a weekend, kids included. I'll warn everyone right now- I have a very dry sense of humor. I will say many things that most people wouldn't and joke about the things most parents would prefer to forget. Let's face it- kids are funny, especially when they aren't trying. They are also sometimes smelly, aggravating, strange, embarrassing, and mostly lovable.
Kid stories are a major part of my life. Not just the kind you read to the wee beasts but the kind that become family lore. #1 changed "Bippity Boppity Boo" into "Broccoli Broccoli Boo". Tell me that shouldn't become a family catch phrase. #2 is an escape artist or maybe I should say escape autist- he can get out of any clothes I put him in and at the worst time. Got workers putting in a new window? Captain Naked Bum will supervise. Is the state Dep't of Transportation taking down a tree out front before it drops more limbs into the road? Have no fear the Streaker is here. I swear I love having windows in the house except when I have to wash them or he goes dancing by them as fully attired as a naked mole rat. Add to that the fact that he is porcelain pale and he practically glows in the dark. Thank goodness the afternoon sun bounces off my windows making it impossible to see in. The morning sun doesn't do a thing for me so I tend to be more alert to 'flashdance' boy then.
Til next time.
#1 will be off to Grandma's later for a few days of spoiling and doting. We call it Spa Grandmas ever since she came home and announced "Gramma powders my bum after my bath". Must be nice. I have very fond memories of my own trips to my grandparents as a child but I do not recall bum powdering at any time. I do remember being the center of attention and enjoying every second of it. It was good to be a princess. I think I'm living Cinderellas life in reverse some days- I was a princess and now I'm a scullery maid (not even a good one, though). #2 is staying home to be the prince of the manor so I'll have to put off most of the scullery work until he's in school during the week. #2 likes to involve himself when I'm trying to clean- not help, just involve himself somehow. The only problem is his involvement usually throws a spanner in the works. Either he slows the process to a virtual stand still or he makes more of a mess than I can work around. The easiest way to clean is to wait until he's at school and go nuts. Once while sorting the playroom toybox and packing the old, outgrown toys to go to Goodwill I caught him trying to climb in the big black trash bag- oh the temptation ;). I know- don't joke about sending the kids to Goodwill- someone, somewhere has probably done it or will do it soon. I joked about Ebay and auctioning them off to the lowest bidder and sure enough, some twit did try to auction her life for a weekend, kids included. I'll warn everyone right now- I have a very dry sense of humor. I will say many things that most people wouldn't and joke about the things most parents would prefer to forget. Let's face it- kids are funny, especially when they aren't trying. They are also sometimes smelly, aggravating, strange, embarrassing, and mostly lovable.
Kid stories are a major part of my life. Not just the kind you read to the wee beasts but the kind that become family lore. #1 changed "Bippity Boppity Boo" into "Broccoli Broccoli Boo". Tell me that shouldn't become a family catch phrase. #2 is an escape artist or maybe I should say escape autist- he can get out of any clothes I put him in and at the worst time. Got workers putting in a new window? Captain Naked Bum will supervise. Is the state Dep't of Transportation taking down a tree out front before it drops more limbs into the road? Have no fear the Streaker is here. I swear I love having windows in the house except when I have to wash them or he goes dancing by them as fully attired as a naked mole rat. Add to that the fact that he is porcelain pale and he practically glows in the dark. Thank goodness the afternoon sun bounces off my windows making it impossible to see in. The morning sun doesn't do a thing for me so I tend to be more alert to 'flashdance' boy then.
Til next time.
Saturday, July 12, 2008
A war, a fair and a dance
Today we are off to a Civil war re-enactment with a 19th century sanitary fair and a dance. A more eclectic day in a town park I can barely imagine. I'm picking up a gal pal of #1 for a day of exploring history without the 7 year olds realizing they may learn something. I love to toss in a healthy dose of education to most things so this should be fun. The only real downside is the heat. I'm not a big fan of HOT weather, especially when you add in humidity. I like a crisp morning warming into the low 70s with some sun for a pleasant glow. Not this so hot I'm sweaty walking to the car nonsense. If I wanted scorching hot I'd hang out in my oven.
Tomorrow my great aunt turns 94! She still lives in her own home and drives (a 2001 Mustang convertible!). Count me impressed. Here's to you Aunt M- HAPPY BIRTHDAY! And many more.
Th Th That's all for now, folks- gotta get ready for a step back in time.
Tomorrow my great aunt turns 94! She still lives in her own home and drives (a 2001 Mustang convertible!). Count me impressed. Here's to you Aunt M- HAPPY BIRTHDAY! And many more.
Th Th That's all for now, folks- gotta get ready for a step back in time.
Wednesday, July 9, 2008
All by myself
Today I am all by myself. #1 is at Grandma's house for the last day in her three day stay. #2 is at school and Hubby is away traveling in the great wilds of Upper Ontario, Canada for his work. So far I have cleaned up one attic and sorted through some of the seasonal storage in that one. Boy do I have a lot of Halloween stuff for this year. I always pick up some decorations after the holidays to add for the next year and store it away. I also discovered that for some unknown reason I put a bunch of empty boxes in the lower attic. No wonder it looked so full. Some day I hope to have a subfloor in the entire lower attic. Right now only about 40% is floored for storage. I'd also like to insulate the heck out of there but that will have to wait for at least one more year. We are working on drywall for the kids new bedrooms and play area so that takes priority. Home renovations can be such a treat. The mess, the frustration, the emergency trips to the hardware shop for forgotten and critical supplies (drywall screws, anyone?), it makes me wonder if we will ever be done up there. The target is Christmas for drywall and beadboard in the bedrooms with hardwood floors. I wonder which target item will change first. I can't wait to get them in their new rooms. The original rooms were very small and only one of them had a heat register. I have high hopes for the finished products. Hubby is really quite handy around the house and I can wield a mean paint roller.
So what exciting things will I do with myself for the next 3.5 hours of alone time? Laundry, load dishwasher, clean bathrooms, mop kitchen, the list of things to do goes on and on. I think I will mop later, toss in a load of laundry soon, load the dishwasher and get some general picking up done. I am also amazed at the general level of cleaning to be done when you have kids and pets. There must be some really scary mathematical formula for this. It must involve calculus which I never really got the hang of. Something like the square footage of the house times the number of small creatures (kids and pets)raised to the 42nd power divided by number of hours in the day less sleep time of pets ( we all know kids don't sleep so much as recharge their batteries quickly) and somewhere is a coefficient of the times needed for other things (cooking, travel, nervous breakdowns, ER visits, and searching for car keys last seen clutched in small hand headed to the toy box). I haven't even figured on the complex stuff yet. But that is the probable formula for house work. Also something about the size of yard, quantity of rainfall for depth of mud tracked over what distance of the house. Yep, I'm blogging to procrastinate. I've gone to great websites which promise little steps to a cleaner house but no joy. I'm obviously ADD- definitely without the hyperactivity (I wish I was a bit more hyper- maybe I'd get more done in a day) I get side tracked from the little steps and then forget it- I'm done. My problem is I'm a bit of a packrat and I get bored quickly. Once I'm bored my mind wanders and soon my feet follow. In my family we refer to it as "Oh look, a chicken". There is a long story about a person(probably me) who is going on and on about a topic of interest only to get totally sidetracked and lose the entire train of thought upon seeing a chicken out the window. I'm pretty sure it's just an analogy since I grew up in the city. Long story short- new thought, new action while abandoning the old mid stride. Happens to me all the time. Add a fair dose of impatience and it's a nightmare.
So I'm setting the timer for 10 minutes and then going to quit blogging and start working. I think I'll start with laundry and go to the mopping. Then when the mopping is done I can load the dishwasher, move wet laundry to dryer and start a new load. I got a new washer and dryer about a month ago. The old guys just started dying and finally the washer decided not to spin or rinse anymore. I really loved my Asko set but they were very small so we went with an LG set which are almost 2x the size. They work great and I'm very pleased with them. If Asko made larger sizes I never would have left them. I loved that washer and the fact that it only hooked up to the cold water, had an on board heater up to 205 degrees, and was very water conscious (good for our septic!!) while spinning out most of the water so they could dry very quickly. I'm getting used to the fact that the new set is much larger than the old and leaves less room on top for folding and the basket. Eventually the laundry room will get overhauled and who knows what changes will be made but I'll be wanting enough room for the basket to fit under whatever shelves we replace these with.
Oops- timer going off- must work now. Take care.
So what exciting things will I do with myself for the next 3.5 hours of alone time? Laundry, load dishwasher, clean bathrooms, mop kitchen, the list of things to do goes on and on. I think I will mop later, toss in a load of laundry soon, load the dishwasher and get some general picking up done. I am also amazed at the general level of cleaning to be done when you have kids and pets. There must be some really scary mathematical formula for this. It must involve calculus which I never really got the hang of. Something like the square footage of the house times the number of small creatures (kids and pets)raised to the 42nd power divided by number of hours in the day less sleep time of pets ( we all know kids don't sleep so much as recharge their batteries quickly) and somewhere is a coefficient of the times needed for other things (cooking, travel, nervous breakdowns, ER visits, and searching for car keys last seen clutched in small hand headed to the toy box). I haven't even figured on the complex stuff yet. But that is the probable formula for house work. Also something about the size of yard, quantity of rainfall for depth of mud tracked over what distance of the house. Yep, I'm blogging to procrastinate. I've gone to great websites which promise little steps to a cleaner house but no joy. I'm obviously ADD- definitely without the hyperactivity (I wish I was a bit more hyper- maybe I'd get more done in a day) I get side tracked from the little steps and then forget it- I'm done. My problem is I'm a bit of a packrat and I get bored quickly. Once I'm bored my mind wanders and soon my feet follow. In my family we refer to it as "Oh look, a chicken". There is a long story about a person(probably me) who is going on and on about a topic of interest only to get totally sidetracked and lose the entire train of thought upon seeing a chicken out the window. I'm pretty sure it's just an analogy since I grew up in the city. Long story short- new thought, new action while abandoning the old mid stride. Happens to me all the time. Add a fair dose of impatience and it's a nightmare.
So I'm setting the timer for 10 minutes and then going to quit blogging and start working. I think I'll start with laundry and go to the mopping. Then when the mopping is done I can load the dishwasher, move wet laundry to dryer and start a new load. I got a new washer and dryer about a month ago. The old guys just started dying and finally the washer decided not to spin or rinse anymore. I really loved my Asko set but they were very small so we went with an LG set which are almost 2x the size. They work great and I'm very pleased with them. If Asko made larger sizes I never would have left them. I loved that washer and the fact that it only hooked up to the cold water, had an on board heater up to 205 degrees, and was very water conscious (good for our septic!!) while spinning out most of the water so they could dry very quickly. I'm getting used to the fact that the new set is much larger than the old and leaves less room on top for folding and the basket. Eventually the laundry room will get overhauled and who knows what changes will be made but I'll be wanting enough room for the basket to fit under whatever shelves we replace these with.
Oops- timer going off- must work now. Take care.
Saturday, July 5, 2008
Mommy independence day
How was everyone's fourth? I chatted online with my sister in law in Germany and actually went off to JoAnn Etc. without a child chaperone. It was a lovely day that started with seeing my sister in law was online and chatting with her over Windows Messenger then my mother-in-law brought over spare ribs she had made us (she owned a Polish tavern in Buffalo for years and is a wonderful cook). After that I went off without a child (pinch me- I'm dreaming!) for a craft store run. Granted I needed a few items for my daughter more than things for myself but hey- any chance to peruse a craft place without being hurried or pestered to buy items I don't like is fun. Later in the day we went off to the local playground for some climbing, sliding, running fun. Then to the fireworks and a great time was had by all. After a hard days play we all fell into bed without so much as a whimper of protest. While it's too bad all our days can't be so footloose and fancy free it's nice to have time as a family to relax and all be more like children. No great worries about work, bills, home repair or such wrecked the simple joys of letting the kids run free.
One of the things I did yesterday that I have never done before was to look in the windows of #1s classroom of the last two years. I have never seen it so empty. There was a sense of both sadness that she won't be back in that room next year and also excitement that she will be just down the hall with her new teacher. We had the same teacher for the last two years. Due to a small town population explosion one year there were more kids starting school last year than most so we had a teacher move down to kindergarten to allow small classes. Then she moved back up to first grade. I volunteered there quite a bit for both years and as much as she will miss her teacher, so will I. She is just so nice and sweet and caring about the kids. We all had a great time together and I gained a lot of experience with classroom parties, politics and dramas. To see the classroom with only a few things remaining was quite odd. It looked just like any other big rectangle room except for the number line running above the blackboard I have pointed to so many times when helping a student add or subtract or count by 2s and 5s and 10s. I feel a real affinity for that number line. I'll be stopping back in that room to see the teacher as I go by on my way to second grade next fall.
My five year old will be off to kindergarten in the fall. That is a source of excitement and concern. He has been in a fully integrated preschool setting for the last two years and has a full time aide to help him. He will have an aide in the fall but it's a big change so I worry about how he will handle it. For those who don't know, #2 is autistic. Life as his mom is often much different than life as the mom of #1. I try and respond to each as best suits them but it's not always easy to remember which mom I am when. I've met #2s teachers for the fall and while they all seem like very nice and patient people I worry for him that the change is going to cause more stress and turmoil than he is able to handle. I've had this worry many times before and he usually reacts poorly initially then adapts but it doesn't take away that sad feeling I get. Maybe it is just me or maybe it's all mothers but it seems harder to watch them struggle when they have so many related problems. Autism is such a bizarre disorder. So many kids and so many different problems. Take 5 kids with it and you can get 5 totally different descriptions of the impact autism has on them. I'm lucky, I'm able to be home with the kids and do a lot with both. It's hard, whether you work outside the home or not, autism is very pervasive to all aspects of each family members life. We try to be honest with #1 about her brothers autism and not make it a taboo or frightening thing. She will have things hard enough growing up since kids can be cruel about differences and may tease her but she realizes (so far) that somethings are not going to go away by wishing them gone. She has talked to her class about autism and how her brother is different from them but that it's not all within his control. Most of the kids are pretty accepting at this age but things change as they get older and the fear of being 'uncool' deepens and leads to verbal cruelty.
I'm not going to launch into the causes/cures of autism beacuse I don't know. I don't know if they can be 'cured' but I do know that all I want for either of my kids is for them to grow up happy and able to take care of themselves. Autism wreaks havoc on that. I know there are blogs and websites run by those with autism who deplore the need for them to change and adapt to our society. In a way I agree with them, but society is not the perfect place where all people act in an honorable manner. My hope for #2 is to get him able to communicate and lead a happy life. If he is destined to live at home with me forever then OK but I am terrified of leaving him at the mercy of those who are less than honorable. To be completely honest there are areas of his behavior I envy. The ability to ignore that which he does not like is extraordinary. I wish I could just ignore like that but I have a tendency to let it annoy me and that leads to having to do something about it. Then I'm just aggravated about the whole thing and my time spent on that instead of something i needed to do. He's a happy kid- he loves being outside in the yard or playing at the stream. He has a stillness to him when he is relaxed that can only be described as totally content with his world. I've seen him sit in the yard by the stream, perfectly still, watching the chipmunks less than 10 feet from him. Of course, I've also seen him fly around the yard with the complete out of control, running too fast to stay on his feet, reckless abandon. I wonder what the chipmunks make of this child of such extremes. He's also very affectionate, more than his sister was at that age. Maybe it's the mommy-son thing as opposed to the mommy-daughter (mini me as Hubby says) that is different, but as different as they are they are also quite alike. They both like to sit on a lap- at the same time, they both like the computer- at the same time, I can go on and on but you get the picture.
And now for another day........
One of the things I did yesterday that I have never done before was to look in the windows of #1s classroom of the last two years. I have never seen it so empty. There was a sense of both sadness that she won't be back in that room next year and also excitement that she will be just down the hall with her new teacher. We had the same teacher for the last two years. Due to a small town population explosion one year there were more kids starting school last year than most so we had a teacher move down to kindergarten to allow small classes. Then she moved back up to first grade. I volunteered there quite a bit for both years and as much as she will miss her teacher, so will I. She is just so nice and sweet and caring about the kids. We all had a great time together and I gained a lot of experience with classroom parties, politics and dramas. To see the classroom with only a few things remaining was quite odd. It looked just like any other big rectangle room except for the number line running above the blackboard I have pointed to so many times when helping a student add or subtract or count by 2s and 5s and 10s. I feel a real affinity for that number line. I'll be stopping back in that room to see the teacher as I go by on my way to second grade next fall.
My five year old will be off to kindergarten in the fall. That is a source of excitement and concern. He has been in a fully integrated preschool setting for the last two years and has a full time aide to help him. He will have an aide in the fall but it's a big change so I worry about how he will handle it. For those who don't know, #2 is autistic. Life as his mom is often much different than life as the mom of #1. I try and respond to each as best suits them but it's not always easy to remember which mom I am when. I've met #2s teachers for the fall and while they all seem like very nice and patient people I worry for him that the change is going to cause more stress and turmoil than he is able to handle. I've had this worry many times before and he usually reacts poorly initially then adapts but it doesn't take away that sad feeling I get. Maybe it is just me or maybe it's all mothers but it seems harder to watch them struggle when they have so many related problems. Autism is such a bizarre disorder. So many kids and so many different problems. Take 5 kids with it and you can get 5 totally different descriptions of the impact autism has on them. I'm lucky, I'm able to be home with the kids and do a lot with both. It's hard, whether you work outside the home or not, autism is very pervasive to all aspects of each family members life. We try to be honest with #1 about her brothers autism and not make it a taboo or frightening thing. She will have things hard enough growing up since kids can be cruel about differences and may tease her but she realizes (so far) that somethings are not going to go away by wishing them gone. She has talked to her class about autism and how her brother is different from them but that it's not all within his control. Most of the kids are pretty accepting at this age but things change as they get older and the fear of being 'uncool' deepens and leads to verbal cruelty.
I'm not going to launch into the causes/cures of autism beacuse I don't know. I don't know if they can be 'cured' but I do know that all I want for either of my kids is for them to grow up happy and able to take care of themselves. Autism wreaks havoc on that. I know there are blogs and websites run by those with autism who deplore the need for them to change and adapt to our society. In a way I agree with them, but society is not the perfect place where all people act in an honorable manner. My hope for #2 is to get him able to communicate and lead a happy life. If he is destined to live at home with me forever then OK but I am terrified of leaving him at the mercy of those who are less than honorable. To be completely honest there are areas of his behavior I envy. The ability to ignore that which he does not like is extraordinary. I wish I could just ignore like that but I have a tendency to let it annoy me and that leads to having to do something about it. Then I'm just aggravated about the whole thing and my time spent on that instead of something i needed to do. He's a happy kid- he loves being outside in the yard or playing at the stream. He has a stillness to him when he is relaxed that can only be described as totally content with his world. I've seen him sit in the yard by the stream, perfectly still, watching the chipmunks less than 10 feet from him. Of course, I've also seen him fly around the yard with the complete out of control, running too fast to stay on his feet, reckless abandon. I wonder what the chipmunks make of this child of such extremes. He's also very affectionate, more than his sister was at that age. Maybe it's the mommy-son thing as opposed to the mommy-daughter (mini me as Hubby says) that is different, but as different as they are they are also quite alike. They both like to sit on a lap- at the same time, they both like the computer- at the same time, I can go on and on but you get the picture.
And now for another day........
Monday, June 30, 2008
Electric Momma
I have no idea what an electric momma is but my seven year old dubbed me that and it stuck. I suppose it's rather catchy and memorable so here it is. Since I've been reading blogs for a few years I decided it was time to give it a try. Hopefully this will be fun and educational for all, myself included.
So I'm a mother of 2- one mostly normal seven year old girl and one autistic five year old boy. I like crafting and find I spend way too much time surfing the 'net for new projects as well as new pages about my favorite crafts. Right now I'm a stay at home mom and find that rather than having lots of free time I have almost no time. Hmm- I have no idea how that can be. So let's look at the great black hole of free time.
Once upon a time I had a job, an apartment, free time and money. Then came the house in a small town in Western New York, baby1, job downsizing post 9/11, baby2 and here I am. Oddly enough my job entailed copious quantities of time in front of the computer and now here I sit staring at the screen again. I'm hoping to use this blog as a place to connect all the dots of my life- motherhood, autism, crafts, normal kids (OK- those who know her might beg to differ somewhat- she is unique!), gardening, renovating a 170 year old house, pets, my pathological need to photograph everything(more on that another day), and all the other detritis that seems to clutter up my otherwise simple life.
My seven year old daughter is one of those incredibly social kids- she loves parties. She loves to dress up in her finest and celebrate- anything. Since I am such a stick in the mud sometimes and don't always want a few dozen of her closest friends over she often will have parties for herself and a few hundred of her closest stuffed friends. She is a great kid and always up for trying a new craft or going somewhere. My five year old son is her complete opposite in so many ways. He is autistic and prefers not to have loud parties. He would stay home or just go to a few preferred places for his whole life if we allowed that. Alas, his wishes often get over ridden by reality. Groceries must be bought, errands run and general mayhem over strict schedules prevails here. For all the boy is quiet and content with quiet pursuits, the girl is loud and enjoys noisy pursuits. I feel like the rope in a game of tug 'o war most days trying to balance the two. Add one 4 year old Bull Terrier named Arthur Pendragon, three cats, and lots of wildlife in the yard and chaos is an apt description of some days.
Add to the mix the ongoing renovation of our very old farm house and mess is another way to sum up my life. I feel like I spend a good portion of my day moving things out of an area to be worked on, doing some work and then looking for what I had to move. Oh well, someday the work will be done and everything will be in it's place and I'll find everything I'm currently looking for- right?? At least the yard is looking better this year. Did I mention my love for all things John Deere? We'll tackle that another day. Why scare everyone off with too much weirdness, right? Actually the yard still has some changes coming but I'm pretty slow with the planting. I'm still letting last years plants fill out and deciding if I like it all. We have a shallow but spring fed stream in the yard outside the dining room which is very peaceful. I like to relax and read out there while the kids play in the shade.
So that is the short version of what to expect here. Chats on crafts, kids, pets, home renovations, house work and whatever strikes my fancy. Grab a cup of coffee and join me in a few laughs over the daily workings of a not always ordinary mind.
So I'm a mother of 2- one mostly normal seven year old girl and one autistic five year old boy. I like crafting and find I spend way too much time surfing the 'net for new projects as well as new pages about my favorite crafts. Right now I'm a stay at home mom and find that rather than having lots of free time I have almost no time. Hmm- I have no idea how that can be. So let's look at the great black hole of free time.
Once upon a time I had a job, an apartment, free time and money. Then came the house in a small town in Western New York, baby1, job downsizing post 9/11, baby2 and here I am. Oddly enough my job entailed copious quantities of time in front of the computer and now here I sit staring at the screen again. I'm hoping to use this blog as a place to connect all the dots of my life- motherhood, autism, crafts, normal kids (OK- those who know her might beg to differ somewhat- she is unique!), gardening, renovating a 170 year old house, pets, my pathological need to photograph everything(more on that another day), and all the other detritis that seems to clutter up my otherwise simple life.
My seven year old daughter is one of those incredibly social kids- she loves parties. She loves to dress up in her finest and celebrate- anything. Since I am such a stick in the mud sometimes and don't always want a few dozen of her closest friends over she often will have parties for herself and a few hundred of her closest stuffed friends. She is a great kid and always up for trying a new craft or going somewhere. My five year old son is her complete opposite in so many ways. He is autistic and prefers not to have loud parties. He would stay home or just go to a few preferred places for his whole life if we allowed that. Alas, his wishes often get over ridden by reality. Groceries must be bought, errands run and general mayhem over strict schedules prevails here. For all the boy is quiet and content with quiet pursuits, the girl is loud and enjoys noisy pursuits. I feel like the rope in a game of tug 'o war most days trying to balance the two. Add one 4 year old Bull Terrier named Arthur Pendragon, three cats, and lots of wildlife in the yard and chaos is an apt description of some days.
Add to the mix the ongoing renovation of our very old farm house and mess is another way to sum up my life. I feel like I spend a good portion of my day moving things out of an area to be worked on, doing some work and then looking for what I had to move. Oh well, someday the work will be done and everything will be in it's place and I'll find everything I'm currently looking for- right?? At least the yard is looking better this year. Did I mention my love for all things John Deere? We'll tackle that another day. Why scare everyone off with too much weirdness, right? Actually the yard still has some changes coming but I'm pretty slow with the planting. I'm still letting last years plants fill out and deciding if I like it all. We have a shallow but spring fed stream in the yard outside the dining room which is very peaceful. I like to relax and read out there while the kids play in the shade.
So that is the short version of what to expect here. Chats on crafts, kids, pets, home renovations, house work and whatever strikes my fancy. Grab a cup of coffee and join me in a few laughs over the daily workings of a not always ordinary mind.
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