Why Do I Keep Them? Because I LIKE Junky Cereal

Catherine over at Her Bad Mother has an around the world in 80 blogs thing going...I think she must have a thing for Jules Verne... Seemed like fun, so I am in. (party?! where? I'm there!) And now I have to add Kelly's link, from Down Undah, since she sorta tagged me (along with the rest of the entire Blogosphere) and if I don't link back, she might whine at me.

I just have to write a post about my five favorite things about being a mom. This is a hard one, because, well, there are so many more than five things I like.

1) I love how goofy I get to act and blame it on "having kids." I already told you about my silliness, but some other things I get to do: sit around in pajamas...all day. Watch cartoons, and pretend it's for the kids. I can blow bubbles, skip rope, play with Play-Doh. I can buy crappy food, like Pop Tarts and Corn Pops, tell myself it's "for the kids." Then I can hide it and only eat it when they are in bed. Woohoo!

2) I get to see things through their eyes. The sky is a little bit bluer, the birds have nicer plumage...the world looks purer, somehow. And I get to see it as if for the first time.

3) Watching my childrens' faces light up when they get a new concept through hands-on-learning is a great joy. I am doubly lucky because I homeschool and get to see that a lot.

4) I have someone else to do the crap jobs I hate: cleaning the cat box and loading the dishwasher. Shhh! Don't blow my cover! And I just adore laundry, especially pairing those mismatched socks. Please, gimme more laundry! Better yet, just kill me. Now. ahem. Back to the joy...

5) I love the unsolicited hugs, the climbing into bed with me in the morning (only my youngest and those days are almost over, they are few and far between any more) the squeals of delight. I love the joy on their faces on Christmas morning and the glee at trying new things. I love hate picking up after them and Jesus Christ were you born in a barn? Close the danged door! And I love when they smile at me. I am pretty sure those moments are God's way of keeping them alive.

When I was younger, I loved kids. A lot. Then I had my own. And they cried, and pooped, and grew into sweaty little marsupials beautiful and well-behaved children. And got diagnosed with autism. Now I don't love other peoples' kids so much anymore, I'm too busy mommyin' mine. I like the mama-gig, but I am not sure that I would say it defines me. I absolutely have a life outside my children, (though I am pretty sure I don't want someone else's children) but I would say, in this day, in this time, they come first. There are seasons in life, and this is the one I am in right now. I would never want to make my life something different. I am very content with what it is.

And now I have to link to some other blogs, and they get to pass on the love....

I choose my twitter friend in the Midwest...which is as far away from the Left Coast as one can get ...

for a different kind of girl You've been tagged, FADKOG.

And I also tag my friend in Singapore at From California To Singapore. Your turn, Starlene!

And my dear friend, califmom..in the hopes that she can really use a mental vacay right about now...

My good friend over at Too Many Hats, even though she lives in Cali, too...

And, because I don't want you to whine, either...if you are reading this, consider yourself tagged! Go for it, it'll be fun. All the cool kids are doing it.

and anyone else who wants to play simply has to put up a post on 5 Things You Love (or Not) About Being a Mom..then link to someone else, preferably in another country. Or not. Then link back to me, and comment here. That way, you can be sure to get added to the itinerary.

T, who would love to read a blog from a mama in Ireland

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Don't Bug Me About The Oatmeal: Extra Protein Edition

"It has WHAT?" I recoiled in horror. My son had just said the Irish steel-cut oats that my daughter made for breakfast, the ones we all love, made in honor of St. Patrick's Day- had bugs in it. "You're crazy, kiddo, I checked it myself." "No, mama they're really small, you can barely see them." I told him to bring me the container, and I put it close to my eye, squinting carefully. Sure enough, tiny little crawly bugs, almost invisible to the eye were crawling around inside the container. On the oats. That she had just cooked. I felt my bile rise. Apparently we added a little extra protein to our breakfast this morning. That's when my littlest daughter started screaming. I understood, but this was over the top. You have to love autism.

You need to understand, JBean at seven, is pretty much bug-phobic. She doesn't like any of them, no matter how cute or interesting they might be. As you can imagine, this makes going outside a challenge. She just found out that the oatmeal she had eaten, and my leftovers that she had scarfed had contained hideous bugs the thing she hates most in life. She was on the verge of a panic attack.

Meanwhile, my eldest daughter, who had cooked the oats, was ashen. She had tears running down her face, and her mouth was frozen into a mask of horror. Surely, this could not be happening.

And my son, JBear, the fruit of my loins, the one who has no idea when to stop talking, continued to tell us all how we had eaten bugs, and they were there, in the container, and could you believe it? Trying to shut him up and deal with the now-death-grip on my arm from my youngest and console my oldest who of course, was blaming herself, because you know if anything goes wrong when she is doing something it is automatically her fault. Just ask her. And I was trying to control my roiling stomach. Amidst the screams of them all. Why is it when all hell breaks loose, I feel the insane urge to laugh? I guess I see the comedy in the situation...

My youngest decided then she needed to go to the bathroom. But, since she was absolutely freaked out about the possibility of bugs, she decided she wasn't going into the bathroom, because what if there were bugs in there? She declared she was just going to wet her pants, she didn't care. (niiiice, don't you want MY life? Sometimes, neither do I).

JBear, who was trying to help said, "If you pee your pants it will attract bugs!" Alrighty, then. Thanks for that kid. The screaming intensified:

"I have to go to the bathroom! No, I am going to pee my pants! I won't go! Ah, I will bring bugs if I peeeeee..." Completely out of control. I cupped her face with my hands, something she doesn't like, but that brings her back into focus and told her to listen to the sound of my voice. She needed to calm down. "We are going to do birthday candles to help you calm down, now." I told her. And I lead her through some deep breathing to slow her heart and her fears. It worked, and she did go to the bathroom. But then she was worried that maybe she peed just a little in her undies, and that it would attract bugs! I explained that doesn't happen, she was fine, and she could just go change her underwear if she was worried. So she did. With some cajoling and I walked her through it.

No sooner did she get done, my son started again about the bugs in the oatmeal. He hadn't eaten any of it (he is gluten-free) and so lacking empathy with autism, was fascinated by our predicament. He just wouldn't stop talking! How festive! Once I got him quiet, I convinced the girls that the bugs got in after we opened the container and we didn't eat anything except oats. Turned out when my son said, "bug" my littlest daughter heard, "Bug" and here that's code for the C Word, because I am terrified of them. (other bugs are fine, but the big black/brown ones send me to the moon. I suppose in a way it is funny. Unless you are me.) So the kids know not to say that word, that rhymes with the second word in "stagecoach." That kind of bug is what my JBean thought was in the can of oats...no wonder she freaked out at the possibility of eating it! Ugh. I explained that the bugs we were talking about were too small to see, and that they are called weevils. (not that it helped me, but she started to calm down.)

So of course, I had to tweet our gross discovery, because well, duh. And someone tweeted back not to share the recipe with her for something, in spanish. I didn't recognize the word. I clicked the link, not really thinking. LIttle daughter was sitting right there, next to the computer. The link was a picture of a frying pan full of grasshoppers. Nice crunchy ones, with garlic and chiles. And yes, it looked like a pan full of bugs. Crap. I blew that one. The hysterics started again. It took a half-hour to calm her down, but I finally distracted her with a book. (later my twitter friend apologized, but it really was not her fault, at all. Also, I found it interesting that in Mexico they eat grasshoppers. Don't the legs get stuck in your teeth??) Yes, I know in many countries they eat insects, but culturally, I can't get past my bias...

Anyway...it made such great blog fodder, so I owe her.

Once everyone is settled down, we spoke no more of it. But I would imagine it will be a long time before any of us eat oatmeal again. And you better believe I will be using a magnifying glass to check grains from now on!

T, who is feeling sick just writing this

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For the Last Time, It's Not My Parenting

My youngest daughter was diagnosed when she was around five, I believe. We suspected she had autism, but you may have heard the saying, "If you've seen one child with autism, you've seen one child with autism." That's true. It is amazing how differently it manifests even just between the two children! We actually didn't even think she had autism, since it was so different from the way my son behaved.

My son lined things up..she does not, but she has to have things Just So. My son has pet subjects, she does not, or at least, none that are consistent. He had self-control issues when he was younger. She also has self-control issues. She is seven years old, but has a really tough time with transitions. Even when it is something she wants to do, she has a tough time moving from one activity to another. I feel that I walk on eggshells with this child, praying she doesn't melt down in front of the wrong people, and I am constantly making excuses for her behavior, and I hate doing that. But when you see a seven year old who is throwing a fit, screaming and frustrated about leaving the park, even though she is headed to her preferred-activity, ballet, what would you think? Be honest, what would you really think?

That's what I thought.

T, who is used to the judgment, and it doesn't bother me anymore

Two's My Limit, I'm Driving

I hear all the time from mothers who tell me about the errands they run. I think it is par for the course, part of Motherese, the Mother tongue of Mothers everywhere. We talk about bedtimes, and bathroom habits and what errands we drag our kids on. I listen in envy as a mother tells me, "We went to the bank, and then I had that thing to return to the store, and I needed a windshield wiper blade at the auto store and we got the car washed, and on the way home we stopped to get groceries!" And I always ask, because I am a glutton for punishment, "Where were the kids in all of this?" And the reply is something along the lines of, "Oh, they went with me, they looooove errands and are flexible to whatever needs to be done!" And that's when that familiar feeling wells up inside of me, and I want to laugh or cry or something between the two and can't decide which. Because? That never happens in my house. Sorry. Couldn't hear your reply over the laughing...

For as long as I can remember, or at least since I have been running errands with kids One errand is usually doable. Maybe this is part of the autism, maybe it is just the particular makeup of my kids. Two is pushing it. Three?

Core breach: Warning, Meltdown Imminent.

Sometimes, I forget this, and the results aren't pretty.

Today, after the meltdown over the Logic class with JBug but that's another story, for another time the kids had an appointment to get their hair cut. We have a wedding tomorrow and they were both due to do the hair thing. They like the hair place, so that went well. Then I had to swing by our church on the other side of town to drop something off quickly. I had also promised JBug that we would try to find her a dress for the wedding, so against my better judgment (isn't it always? This is where I go wrong...) I decided we would make a trip to the store. It's not a loud store or particularly bright, but there are lots of racks of clothes, and little kids get bored easily.

I can't accurately represent what went on at the store, except to tell you that at one point, while I was quickly checking the fit of one of JBug's prospective dresses, JBear had coerced JBean to bite herself on the arm, and then told her to bite harder, and she did! I think her middle name should be Lemming. She of course, hurt herself, started crying, was angry with him and hit him hard. This occurred while I was 20 feet away for about thirty seconds. This doesn't count the loud, loud voices that they use, which make me cringe and I can imagine people cursing me for my children.I get it... sometimes I curse me for my children!

You know the Very Quiet Cricket? My kids are more like The Extremely Noisy Pests
I had promised them smoothies if they could hold it together at the store. THAT didn't happen. So the smoothies didn't either. We came straight home, amidst the wails of JBean, who was beside herself that she missed out on the smoothie, and angry with me that I stuck to my word. Of course, driving home was a picnic; everyone loves ear-piercing, bloodcurdling screams and feet thumping against the back of the seat. We pulled into the driveway, she ran to her room and locked the door, screaming. She did come out long enough to hit me, so that was festive. I managed to talk to her about her behavior, and she may have gotten it. We'll see. She has since calmed down, and is sitting here next to me building with blocks, but I am getting too old for this rollercoaster crap. And, I have no one to blame but myself.

So...I have made the rule Hard and Fast:

Thou shalt not run more than two errands in a single driving session. Two shall be the number, and the Number shall be Two. Neither shall the number be Three. Or Four. Two is the number. Or else. I'm not kidding. Flying monkeys, I needs them?

(but that says nothing to the number of drinks I get to have once the kids are in bed!)

T, who really, really needs a break

Technorati: autism, behavior, anxiety

The Monkey Can't Believe It, Either!

Are you ever completely shocked at what comes out of your mouth? I mean, like some other person who isn't your mother is channeling their voice through you? And you stand there like "WTH did I just say??" Well, that happened to me today.

In my defense, my husband is out of town, and has been since forever last Saturday. I have no idea which way is up, I would not make a good single mother. I think I would eat my children. With a spork. wait, let me back up...

We were having lunch at Taco Bell. It had gone well, if you don't count the fact that no one wanted to sit next to anyone else and once they did, they kicked one another. But that wasn't the problem. I simply am setting the scene for you so you understand why I was feeling so stressed. Afterwards, we were headed to the optometrist for JBug to pick out new frames. Yes, I was bringing all the kids there. See the build-up of Had Enough here?

Which is why, as we were leaving, and JBean took a handful of sporks with her (something she has never done, mind you) I said:

"What are you doing? An animal had to die for those, you know!"

What, T? WHAT? Maybe I have spent too much time being snarky at twitter, or maybe I am just losing my mind. And the sad thing is, I didn't even realize it, until JBug said, "What? What animal? That's not true. Why do you tell her that, mama?? (Daughter, haven't you ever heard of the Spork? It lives in forests in Siberia and...)

Because, daughter, apparently I am not human thinking! WHO tells a kid with autism that she kills animals by wanting a spork?

Apparently, I do. Let the beatings commence. I'll be over in the corner, trying not to devour my children.

What have you said that you wish you could take back? Don't leave me alone, here, come on now.

T, who did apologize and tell my kids my brain went to Germany with my husband

Technorati: parenting, stress, evil_mother

I Scream, You Scream...

Some days it feels like you just can't win. Mondays are park days for us. We have been attending for years, every week. At least, we were, until about a month ago. It isn't that we made a decision not to attend; something just always comes up. That something usually involves tears from one child or another, and today was no exception. Why Mondays seem to be the day that falls apart is anyone's guess. It might be the transition from the weekend that throws us.

"But I neeeeeed It!"

One of the hallmarks of autism is rigidity and needing things "just so." Normally, we allow for that in this house. But today, JBean decided that she needed one certain dress, the yellow sundress with bright pink flowers, and no other dress would do. This is her current very-favorite dress; she refused to get dressed without it. And we couldn't find it, so... "sorry honey, isn't there another dress you want to wear, how about the purple one", failed to work. In exasperation, the "You are 7 years old, you can find another dress, we can't find that one, so get over it", approach, in hindsight was not very effective, either. She would not budge.

this is the dress in question

So rather than being able to leave for the park, we were stuck appeasing her, feeding her Autism Monster, and trying to calm her down. (I am in no way calling my daughter a monster. In our house, when behaviors surface, I often distance myself by calling the behavior "the Autism Monster." I only say this in my head; it helps me differentiate between the child and the problem) She locked herself in the bathroom because she was embarrassed that she was throwing a fit. Yet, she wouldn't stop.

Rather than get angry In a situation like this, it is important to recognize that it isn't about the dress. It is about control. What's different, I asked myself? Why isn't she feeling safe? And of course, it hit me, Daddy is out of town for a week. Aha! With renewed understanding, I was able to be less annoyed with her.

Finally, she did open the door, apologized, and stopped crying. Peace was restored, but it proved to be premature. As soon as she was reminded that she would need to wear something else because, remember,the dress couldn't be found, she fell apart again. A seven year old pitching a fit can be handled. But factor in a pissed-off nine year old, who really wants to go to the park,is stuck in the autism loop and change of plans has increased his anxiety? The job gets harder. Now I am playing referee and trying to protect Ms. Fragile from a bullying brother, as well as trying to comfort her and teach her ways to find self-control. It's the Autism Monster working overtime. I think he's an overachiever...those run in my family.

I did find the dress, though I confess I didn't expend much energy trying to find it. I got lucky. It was in the bottom of the clean clothes basket. The one I pawed through to try and find something she would wear. She put it on and we were out the door, hours late. We piled into the car, weary, but we were on our way. And then we hit traffic. I watched the light change, but the cars didn't move. We sat there, while the light cycled three times. The park is twenty minutes away. It was 3:15, and park day started at noon. And then I made an Executive Decision.

Sometimes, You Just Have to Make a U-Turn

We would forgo the park, and head to our local 50's diner for burgers. Maybe the day could still be salvaged. Despite protests, I whipped a U-turn, and headed to the diner. It proved to be a good decision. We all relaxed, enjoyed a leisurely lunch, and even went shoe shopping, buying shoes for JBug (she really needed them) and ended the day with an ice cream cone from Baskin-Robbins.

The point here is that by being flexible, (referred to in our family as "the F Word") even after the fact, we managed to bring a Defcon 2 situation back under control. Often with autism, the plan you make is the one that you have to break. Or, rather, rethink. If the plan is stone-cold, rigid, it will break, and it's not pretty when it does.

Better to Scream for Ice Cream than Just to Scream

It may seem counter-intuitive to suggest that plans change. Kids with autism really like structure. They like to know that things are arranged the way they want (and often need) them to be. But, as the adult, it is much easier for your to be flexible than it is for them. The plans change because you get that the need is for a different plan. By tweaking the agenda, you can often avoid a greater meltdown.

And, if you are lucky, you end up with Rocky Road ice cream in the process.

T, who is pretty happy with the way it worked out

How about you? What would you have done? We all have days that just aren't going right. How do you handle it?

Technorati: autism, high-functioning_autism, Aspergers, behavior, frustration

Confessions of a Non-Cook

I just want you to know, it's a vicious lie. I cook. I do. I feed my family and everything. So if some skinny guy claiming to be my husband shows up and tells you that I don't... you can't believe him. Why, just tonight we had taquitos for dinner! With sour cream, salsa and guacamole! And last night was Annie's mac n' cheese and even...salad!

Ok, so yeah it's true that I don't cook as much in the summer. I mean, really, do you like to heat the house all up with the oven when it is 90 degrees outside? Me, either. And it just makes our air conditioner work that much harder. Tell him to quit sniveling. Besides, the only reason for a job is so you can buy food. Food that you personally don't have to cook or clean up after.

Don't get me wrong, I like to cook I really do. But some cosmic joker thought it would be real funny to time my childrens' meltdowns with the dinner hour. It is really difficult to wax poetic about creation and EVOO when you are trying to keep the little darlings from pulling each others' hair out by the roots.

"JBear, no, you can't throw your sister off the loft bed! No! I don't care if she took your stuffed animal. Maiming her in retaliation is NOT okay!"

Given this onslaught, is it any wonder I don't play more Food Network Fanatic? I am a decent cook. I can find my way around in my kitchen. I don't often burn food. People like what I cook. But have you ever tried to stir fry anything with a cacophony of

"GIVE IT BACK! I'M TELLING! YOU BETTER NOT! MOOOOMMMY! NO! DON'T DO.... SCREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEECH!"

in the background? I swear, Alton Brown never had to contend with that! I can't tell you how many times I have been jarred into spilling food all over myself based upon that car-alarm scream! At some point, after the third time of turning the heat off on stir-fry, mind you! in order to go running down the hall, hoping to divert a disaster, you end up throwing the whole soggy mess down the sink and fetch fast food!

Someday, I am going to cook again. Life will be more than, "Quick, what can I make them before they can tear the house apart?" I broil a good piece of fish, and I serve that frequently. I marinate chicken, and they like that. But everything I do is fast and dirty. It has to be. The last thing I need to be is hauled into court as the prosecutor looks at me and asks, eyes beady over his horn-rimmed glasses: "And what were you doing while the children killed one another/burned the house down/streaked naked through the neighborhood??" Fixing dinner seems like a lame excuse.

I need to keep my wits about me. So for now, it's cook as fast as I can. Spaghetti, fish, chicken, things that require a minimum of prep. And the occasional fast food run is thrown in for good measure. (not that the kids mind that) As they get older, there will be more gourmet-type fare. Until then, maybe I will see you at Taco Bell. I'll be the one with sauce down my shirt and the wild look in my eye.

Here is where you come in. What are some, quick and tasty, tried-and-true meal ideas that work for you? I neeed your help!

T, who would like an Alice like in the Brady Bunch

Technorati: family, children, cooking

Yes, But Does It Come With a Wardrobe?

We're driving in the car on the way home from a birthday party this afternoon. I am already feeling pretty good, because, though all the kids there were on the Spectrum, mine are less high-maintenance than most who were there.

We are listening to my iPod and tooling along, when a small voice comes from behind:

"When I grow up, I'm not having a lion because they are much too hard to train."

Because, you know, you can just go to any neighborhood Pets R' Us and buy a lion...

Amazing the things that kids say...and Spectrum kids seem to say things that are even more random than most.

What's the funniest or most random thing your child (or a child you know) has said?

T, who is constantly entertained

Technorati: kids, children, random

Sunday In The House With Me

Trying to tell my 6 year old little daughter anything can be a losing proposition. When she was born, it was obvious she had a forceful personality. She was what Dr. Sears termed, "high needs." I carried her around in the sling pretty much the first two years of her life. would you believe she still asks to be carried in the sling? Long after she is too big and my back is too weak... Here are just a few examples of her er, perseverance.

Trying to get JBean dressed is a huge chore.I still have to walk her through it: walk her to her room, help her pick out her clothes, make sure she gets dressed and be on hand to help with the odd sleeve. She can get dressed on her own, for the most part, but seems overwhelmed by the choices available. If I narrow down those choices, none are suitable. They are too scratchy, the wrong color, the wrong fabric, not ____________ enough...it is enough to make me pull my hair out. I refuse to engage in a power struggle with her over clothes, but that doesn't stop her from trying. She is six and these struggles are more appropriate with a three year old. This is the only area that she insists she needs one-on-one help. She even brushes her teeth on her own! of course, that is what a "developmental delay" is...not always easy for me to remember that...

This last time, she told me she just wasn't going to wear clothes anymore. I explained that she couldn't go out of the house then and she just retorted: "That's fine, I will just live here for the rest of my life!" I pictured her at 30, with cats and a computer, still in the room down the hall... oh boy. By the way, we were late to church because she wouldn't get dressed.

Jbean 1 Momma O

Later, we were in the car and she was singing and counting to herself. "12, 13, 15..." and, always the homeschool momma, I gently chided: "14 comes after 13... 13, 14, 15." She just looked at me as though I had grown two heads. "I know. I like it this way." Uhm, ok? Never one to leave well enough alone, I engaged again, "Well, if you count skipping numbers no one will understand you. They count in order." She sighed, long and full of exasperation at how stupid her Momma was. "THEY don't count the way that *I do. This is the JBean way!" As if that said it all. I guess it did.

Jbean 2 Momma O

Lastly, she loves coins. Her Sunday School teacher gave her a quarter. I don't know why, it doesn't matter..that's not part of the story. The quarter fell in a crack in her carseat. Recently, after the black widow activity we have had around here, JBean has become somewhat phobic of dark, small, enclosed spaces. She didn't want to put her hand in the crack because, "there might be a black widow in there." OF course, I did my Momma Best to reassure her: "Honey, black widows don't like people or activity. There wouldn't be a black widow in the crack in your seat. They wouldn't even be in our van. It's ok. There's nothing there." From the backseat, a small voice pipes: "...Except the quarter." Well, yes except for...oh hell.

Jbean 3 Momma O

T, who says it's a good thing I can blog this, or I might take it way too seriously

Technorati: kids, antics, literal

What Are You Wishing For?

Have you been to Wishpot, yet? It is a great site. Imagine a place where you can add all the things your little heart desires. That's Wishpot. I know there are other sites, but this one, you can shop anywhere and keep a running list of what you want. There is even a toolbar that you download and add to your browser. Pretty simple.

And today, the Baby Registry opened! Now, new mommas can find everything they need on one site. There are even "experts" that can help. Each expert has her own niche. Disclaimer: I am also an expert, but this is NOT a sponsored post. I don't write those. My opinions are never bought and paid for. I am blogging this because I really believe in the site. So you can trust what I say. My specialty is Crunchy Momma. I love all things cloth diapering, natural and organic. Come check out my list page. I currently have three lists running: Things a New Momma Can't Be Without, Oh, How Fun, and Momma's Down Time.

If you stop by, make sure to leave a comment or a message for me!

p.s. it is Jessica's birthday today...make sure to say Happy Birthday to her at Twitter: @JessicaKnows.

Happy Wishing!

T, who loves to help new mommas

Technorati: Wishpot, baby, baby_gifts

The Skies Are Only Friendly If You Don't Have Autism

Anyone who has flown anywhere with a toddler, autistic or not, will get this. A mom, flying with a child who had autism was kicked off a plane in Raleigh, North Carolina. Why? The child didn't want to wear his seatbelt tightly. He kept it on, but didn't want it as tight as it would go. The flight attendant engaged in a power struggle, and called in the pilot. After that, the child had a meltdown. Rather than understanding how difficult it is to deal with a child (compounded by the fact the child has autism, and the various sensory issues that it involves), the pilot made an announcement that was a judgment on her parenting, turned the plane around and left them standing at the gate. Was this wrong?

Talk to any flight attendant, and you will hear about how their first duty is to ensure the safety and comfort of the passengers. Anyone that poses a hazard needs to be evaluated and left behind. And while I get that view, I don't buy it. How many times have you been seated next to someone who has bad breath? Or is sleeping on your side of the seat? Or, the person is just taking up too much room? How about the kid behind you or in front of you that constantly *knocks *the *seat until you want to get up and throttle them? And all of those people stay on the plane.

A mother with a toddler needs to be treated with understanding. She is having a hard enough time without derision and judgment. A mother who is dealing with autism? Should get a medal...

Should the mother have alerted the airline to the fact that her son had autism? Probably. Did she? We don't know. We also don't know if they had early-boarding. What we do know is that rather than try to help the mother or the little boy calm down, they simply took the hard-nosed approach and kicked them off the plane.

I am sorry that passengers were inconvenienced, and funny how easy it is to judge when one hasn't a clue about the issue. Would we ask someone who is overweight to get off the plane? How about someone in a wheel chair? Autism? IS A DISABILITY, people! It is not a catch-all for crappy parenting, or an excuse to let a child run amok. Believe me, as a parent of a children with autism when I say,

"I don't WANT my child to act in a way that embarrasses the snot out of me and makes me want to climb under a rock."

Kids with autism really don't have a lot of choice in many of their behaviors. And? Neither do their parents.

What would I have done in the mother's situation? I am pretty sure I would have cried, just like she did. Enough of the shaming. When did we declare war on mothers of small children? When did they become second-class citizens? They have just as much right to travel as anyone, and a harder time of it. What the pilot did was chicken shit inexcusable. As a parent, I am tired of being judged because my children have a NEUROLOGICAL DISORDER!

But, you know? At least, even with kids who have autism, I haven't lost my sense of civility. This is, after all, a kind blog. There is another blog out there that said some really rotten things about the child and the mother, and how "she" shouldn't have to be inconvenienced. She compared autism with a child to an adult with bipolar disorder. First of all, bipolar adults have a choice in whether they want to be where they are. She also mentioned that many kids are being diagnosed with autism when really they are just "flaming brats." Excuse me? I didn't comment there, what's the point? (I am not linking to the blog, simply because

1) I don't want to give her the hits

2) Ignorance cannot be rewarded

But really? If you haven't lived special needs parenting? If you don't know what it is to live with an out-of-control, neurologically-damaged kid?

SHUT THE HELL UP!

As far as a child who is throwing a fit? Talk about feeling helpless! A two year old is along for the ride, he doesn't get a choice. This giant tin can is going to lift off the ground, it makes noise and makes your ears feel funny. Explain it to a two year old? And an autistic one at that? Have some compassion for those who just don't get it.

The airline industry is floundering. With airlines discriminating against moms with small children (there was another incident of a mom thrown off a plane with a toddler last year), who wants to fly? This kind of negative press can do nothing but hurt them in the long run. I suggest some sensitivity training for the flight attendants, at the very least. I won't be flying American until they apologize to the mother. Clearly, they cannot admit a mistake. And that to me is what is inexcusable.

T, who realizes that we have a long way to go on autism awareness

Technorati: autism, travel, discrimination

A Place For US?

I have decided to start an "autism stories from the trenches" blog. To the best of my knowledge, there is nothing out in BlogLand like what I am envisioning. My vision of this new blog is that ANYBODY who deals with autism can write on it. We are all in this together, and we are not alone, even if it feels that way sometimes. With multiple authors, we can share our stories and get validation and encouragement from those that get it. NO judgment. So. If you are interested, leave me a comment here, and/or go check out autism sucks and leave a comment there. I will add you as an author, and that's all it will take. I really want to see this take off, and for no other reason that we are a Community and it helps to know we are not alone.

I am not doing ad revenue over there, I am not trying to drive traffic to another site. I won't be doing reviews or trying to sell anyone anything. I just really believe in the Internet as a community, a help and a place to land. I want to provide a place where parents (and siblings?) can just vent to one another in a safe place.

T, who lives it everyday and understands

Technorati: autism, Aspergers, community

I Have a Special Job For You

Type-a Mom is looking for a few good moms, and you are one of them! Do you like to write? Do you know a little something about parenting? Special needs kids? Preschoolers? Crafts? Massage? Then type-a mom wants you! They are currently looking for mom writers in all areas to write articles for the site.

We especially need moms who are adept (or just pretend to be, like me) in special needs parenting! I need some help with material over there, readers! I would love to have you join me. So if you have kids with autism, adhd, hearing-impaired or other different-abilities, high-tail it over to type-a mom. And tell them TLC sent you! I would love to see a well-rounded category representing special needs.

I have my newest article running right now on transitioning to theGFCF diet and remaining sane (yes it is possible!) Go read it and give me feedback. I am writing for you, tell me what you want.

edit me rest of story

T, who would love to see more people over there writing

Technorati: writing, blogging, special_needs

The Agony of The Feet

When you are a mother of three kids, you can't keep up with everything. Some things fall by the wayside. I mean, sure, you make sure the kids eat meals (if they can find food that is worth eating since you are too busy blogging to go to the store) And for the most part, you make sure if you are going out in public that the kids are wearing (mostly) clean clothes free of large rends or tears. Of course, you must fight your son in this department, who has glommed onto one particular pair of pants and eschews everything else, because they are "comfy." Did I mention he will only wear tan pants, like Indy Jones? And even if it is 99 degrees out (like today!) the kid won't wear shorts? Seriously. But I digress... What else is new, you ask...I can't seem to stay on topic for anything. See why I need an editor? ahem..

My point, if I had one, would be...I am only one woman. I can't do it all. If all kids are reasonably clean and clothes are free of visible dirt and don't smell like old bacon, I consider that a win. Once in a while, we forget to brush hair, but that's pretty minor. Who has time to stand still and have your hair brushed when you are JBean...and busy taking every toy you own to the car? I mean, JBean has to have the My Little Pony purse filled with My Little Pony toys and their My Little Pony houses and beg mama to carry them, even though she said she wouldn't and that they would be too heavy for a little girl to carry and mama IS NOT carrying, I mean it... and Mama ends up carrying anyway. This happens a couple of times a week. The child cannot go anywhere without toys. (this is not a post sponsored by My Little Pony, and after you read it you will understand they wouldn't want to be near it) But in the scheme of things, these are small annoyances.

My son does not have time for things like baths, and honestly, unless we are going somewhere, I guess I don't have time to fight him on it. I fight him on enough things Much too soon, he will hit that big-footed, shaggy-haired phase and will stink all the time. Then, we will make baths (or showers) an issue. For now, if I see visible dirt, into the tub he goes. Which brings me to today.

My son has a new(?) obsession: The Indiana Jones game for the Wii game system. And while I need to review it, because there are some fun surprises hidden in said game, that is not tonight's subject. Tonight is concerned with feet. Namely, my son's feet. Understand that yesterday he was outside, barefoot. But I didn't think about it at the time. Lazy days, summer, easy going, you understand. And really, if the body parts aren't showing, they don't count. He puts socks on, I don't see the feet, he's home free. Until today. He was sitting on the couch playing the video game again after he was done with his school...what kind of mother do you think I am and I was sitting on the other end of the couch, reading email. I glanced down and saw these things... and in the interest of proving I have no pride...

THIS is a picture of my son's feet (he asked, "Are you gonna blog my feet?? I'm gonna be famous!") Sure, son, just what you want everyone to remember you for... you know this is going to come back and bite you in the butt. But really, isn't the story of how you mooned the entire line at McDonalds going to do more damage? Ok, fine, guess feet are no big deal. So, to keep my son happy, here is a picture of his disgusting, nasty feet. any pervs who strolled in based upon a "dirty feet" search can just keep right on strollin' out the door, thanks...this blog is protected by Anti-Perv snakes. What? You don't see them? They're invisible. They see you. Best be off, now...

with apologies to Bill Cosby, but I have little original material, I am too busy policing my son's feet!

T, who understands if you never want to speak to her again

Technorati: family_life, parenting,

The Itsy Bitsy...Holy Crow that's HUGE

I have mentioned before that I am not Supermom. But sometimes this message doesn't get into my brain. It especially Does Not Compute if it involves protecting one of my offspring. I am the Motherboard, after all. I make it all run.exe. (or start, if you are Mac user, like me) So, last night, when my son came in from playing outside to tell me there was a black widow hiding underneath a pipe by the corner of the house, instead of letting my husband, he of the Awesome Tech Support and Killer of Creepy Crawlies handle it, I grabbed a bottle of hair spray and went out the door to prove that I am more than just fantastically gorgeous, sexy and a bitchen writer. I am also: She Who Kills Spiders. I need a disclaimer here...I don't kill spiders. I catch them and put them outside, the poor things. But when it comes to venomous arachnids and children? All bets are off, and it WILL die.

The first thing I noticed was that the thing I was sent to dispatch was frickin' HUGE. She was as big as my thumb. I didn't take a picture, because, well, be honest, would you want to open my page and see that monstrosity staring back at you? No, me either! She clearly was quite settled where she was, and wasn't intent on relocation, especially not to the Big Web in the Sky, because when I sprayed her with the hairspray, I think she grinned at me, and retreated deeper into the crevice from whence she came. Thinking hair spray was going to freeze her was clearly wrong, she was probably in front of her Spider Mirror doing her hair! Part of the problem is that in an attempt to be more environmentally-friendly, we don't have Aqua Net or any of those aerosol-type sprays in this house. The only spray available was my daughter's year-old cheap Suave pump spray, left over from her theatre production. Probably not the best weapon against a Widow from Hell.

This was war.

I retreated to the garage to plan my next move and to grab a can of poison. We don't usually have spray, but readers may remember that I have a phobia of the er. "r words." Large black insects that scare me so badly I cannot even write the word. We keep the spray just in case an errant bug cannot read the signs posted all around my house and haplessly wanders into my driveway and certain death. I retrieved the can, and came once again to meet my enemy. I raised the can, poised to spray her into oblivion. She merely stared at me with all eight of her eyes, and tossed her now-gorgeous spider-hair in defiance. I narrowed my eyes in answer and let loose. I sprayed the snot out of that spider! And still, she wouldn't die! She did a lot of spider dancing, so clearly it was affecting her. I considered turning the hose on her, but remembered years ago when I had then-babies and was trying to exterminate a black widow in the back yard: those mothers swim! I continued to spray her and she was either going into neuro-toxic convulsions or she was break dancing, I still don't know which. I decided to end it and show her once and for all who the true Survival of the Fittest would be. I pulled a sucker punch. I picked up a brick laying nearby and I smashed her flat. Dead.

I? Am a a bad-ass. Thank you very much. Now I have to go and curl up in a fetal position because that was a #$@& POISONOUS SPIDER! WHAT the hell was I thinking??

T, who won't be doing that again. Maybe

Technorati: family, spider, Supermom

The One Where I Convince You I Am Not Old

Have you heard the awful rumors? No? Good. Because hear me now, I am absolutely too young to have a high school student. Do you hear me? is this thing on?? Sigh. I cannot be old. I wear cool shoes! I listen to hip music. I wear semi-fashionable clothes. well I don't have a link, you'll have to take my word for it I have bitchen hair. I cannot be old, ok? I am a youth leader for the jr high (soon to be high schoolers) at church. They like me. I like loud music and cookies. I am not old. Repeat it with me.

Tonight was our promotion celebration for our homeschool. There are 41 families in our group. JBug was the only 8th grade graduate. There were two Seniors graduating from high school, though. Not even going to think about that. We all went on stage as a family and JBear along with JBean received their promotion certificates. Then JBug came on stage and was given her certificate of graduation. She is an excellent student, and studies Logic (second year), Latin (second year) Algebra, Ancient History, Greek literature (we are of the Classical bent, more or less) Life Science and Intermediate Band: she plays the clarinet. In her spare time, she is teaching herself the piano. She is very self-motivated and I rarely have to remind her to get on task. I was asked to say a few words, and this is what I said:

JBug, wow, we are in a completely different place in our lives this year, huh? In the last two years since you have been homeschooling, your father and I have watched you blossom from a tentative child to a self-confident young woman. While it doesn't seem to be your nature to jump into an activity with both feet (you will never be an early adopter), you are trying things more easily than you have in the past, and sticking with them. You are no longer stuck in the Perfection trap...you are realizing it is enough sometimes just to do something because you enjoy it. And even if you don't. I have watched you step up and do what needs to be done. You are an invaluable help around our house, and you are usually uncomplaining.

I have watched your relationship with the Lord grow as you discover who He is to you, personally. I have watched you step up in ministry as you find the areas where you are gifted. You have a reputation for service, whatever needs to be done. And for wisdom. We all learn from you.

I have watched you grow in your friendships. Our joke is that you didn't find your peer group until you started homeschooling...so much for no socialization with homeschoolers, right?

And most importantly, I have watched our relationship grow. You talk to me, and I talk to you. I love that aspect most of all. It has been my privilege to watch you grow, and I am absolutely thrilled that I get to share so closely in your journey to womanhood.

Congratulations, JBug. You are absolutely ready for high school.

*On Tuesday, I will honor my younger kids, I really am not ignoring them. But this is JBug's moment

T, who absolutely is not not not old (and is very proud of her daughter)

Technorati: homeschool, homeschooling, family

Happy Mother's Day! Now, Show Me the Money!

Apparently, what I do is worth over 100K a year. I could have told you that. Come back when you have the check in hand.

On that note Happy Mom's Day. Any mom will appreciate this oldie:

T, who also says add in my private tutoring duty

Technorati: motherhood, funny stuff

Bad Parenting 101

In retrospect, maybe it's not a good idea to tell my little one that no her dad cannot cuddle her, he needs to go to Starbucks and get me mocha so that I don't kill my children in their sleep.

She knew I was joking, but I asked her about it, anyway. Maybe I am too flippant for my own good some days.

T, who needs Starbucks and whose mouth hurts

Technorati: parenting, Starbucks,

Eighteen WHAT??

I have many friends with large families. I really envy their dynamic. The way they get along, share chores and play together is beautiful. In fact, I always wanted to have a large family, but because of our genetic challenges, realized that wasn't in anyone's best interest. The chances of another child with autism are very high, and just not what we chose to bridge for our family.

One of my friends even has nine children. As I said, it works for them. But I cannot, in my wildest dreams, imagine being the Duggars. They are pregnant with their EIGHTEENTH child! Can you even imagine? Besides the obvious l wonder what they will do about college for their children? I understand that they are financially well-off. They built their 7,000 sq. ft home, but they also did it without help from a contractor. I am not sure if they couldn't afford it, or what. Can you imagine feeding that many teenage boys?? It is hard enough to feed my three!

I have always wondered how it is to grow up in a home like the Duggars. The girls all do the inside chores and are responsible for cooking dinner and taking care of their "buddies", that is, the child they are responsible for . I wonder if there is enough time to play and be a child? I do know that not all large families run their homes this way, however. As I mentioned, I have friends who have large families, and the children are allowed to play and be children. They are not on constant baby duty. Don't get me wrong, I do think it is important to teach the older children responsibility. JBug watches her siblings at times, and cooks dinner. But it isn't every day, and she certainly has time to herself. She is a introvert, so time is built in over the day to herself. I make sure we all have time to ourselves throughout the day.

I am happy for the Duggars. They seem to be able to handle it. I know I would be at the hat factory with half that many children. Choruses of, "I did not! Did, too! Maaama!" and, what I call Sondheim Parenting fill my life, and I only have three.

What's that you say? What is Sondheim Parenting, you ask? Simply this: when you see a stage musical, part of the plot is that everyone sings over every one else, so you can barely hear anyone, and it melds together. Stephen Sondheim is especially known for this, so that is why I use his name.

I cannot imagine the cacophony of sound that results with eighteen children! I would have to buy stock in Advil!

T, who is D-O-N-E

Technorati: family, parenting

Autism Resources

This page is a work in progress...if you know something that needs to be here...let me know!

theautspot is an online social network similar to facebook, but for those specifically with autism and those who love them.

Weighted Blankets: Dream Catchers
TACA -Talk About Curing Autism
GFCF Diet
The AQ Test (not scientific)

Articles I Have Written On Autism

Difficulties with Figures of Speech in Autism
Seven Ways to Ease Transitions For Children With Autism
What You Need To Know Before a Special Needs IEP Meeting
Feeling Overwhelmed With a New Autism Diagnosis
Quick and Easy Tranisitioning To a Gluten Free Casein Free Diet
Home Interventions For Autism
Easy Interventions For a Child With Autism
My Reasons To Homeschool A Child With Autism
Avoiding Power Struggles In Autism
Relationship Development Intervention (RDI) For Autism
Help Your Child Cope With Anxiety
Avoiding Pitfalls of the Gluten Free Casein Free (GFCF) Diet
Errands With Autism Spectrum Kids
Homeschooling Alternative For Autism Spectrum Kids
Ways To Help A Child Cope With a Special Needs Sibling (book list included)
How To Talk To a Child With Autism
Sensory Integration Dysfunction (SDI) Defined For Parents
Easy Ways You Can Help Your Child With Autism Succeed
Helping Your Child With Dysgraphia
Autism Diagnosis and Signs of Autism
Easy Help For Autism and Fears
Becoming More Aware of Autism and How You Can Help Kids With Autism
How To Deal With Criticism When Parenting A Child With Autism
Importance of Early Intervention Programs For Autism Treatment

I am the Orange County Special Needs Kids Examiner,and I publish about 4 times a week. If you have a topic, send me an email...I love comments and feedback.

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