Reason #247,602 why I will be voting for Obama

If you are one of the 2 people on the Internet who hasn't seen this yet (I was) I wanted to share with you.

You've Just Been Barack-Rolled. Like Rick Rolled, only MORE PRESIDENTIAL

Barack FTW!

Hey, you have to admit, the video is awesome. What other videos are a must see? Share your picks

T, who had to share

Technorati: YouTube, video, Barack

What the Hell's Wrong With Me?

My bathroom buddy Jenny, the funniest blogger I know, wrote a post over on her blog about her neuroses. She asked about others' neuroses and I realized I had the makings of a post, right there! So, here, without further ado, are my foibles and OCD-tendencies. Please refrain from laughing until you leave. yes, this means you, stop laughing, I might cry.

So here, for your amusement, I present, in no particular order:

• I will only use a thin-bowled spoon. If the only clean spoon is a thick-bowled spoon, I will wash a thin-bowled spoon rather than use the spoon in the drawer.
• If I go into a bathroom, and the mirror faces the door, I close my eyes until I get the light on. I never go into a dark room with a mirror without having a light on. Too much Bloody Mary, as a kid, I guess.

• I am a nightowl. I can go to bed at just about anytime, but I play a game with myself. No matter what time I go to bed, I don't look at the clock. I put a cloth over it, and tell myself it is midnight. It works. I have been doing this for years.
• I don't touch public bathrooms. I flush with my foot, then wash and use the towel to open the door. I am not a germophobe anywhere else
• I hate drinking water. I will pretty much only drink Arrowhead water. Or, water that comes out of my fridge filter, with lemon and ice. I have tried to make myself drink different bottled water, but I can't. I can absolutely taste the difference.
• I always eat the cake, then the frosting. I am very careful about this. I feel guilty if I eat the frosting first.
• I hold my breath during orgasm. I heard somewhere that it made it better, and now I don't know how to stop, so I keep doing it
• I am beyond terrified of cockroaches. I shudder just looking at the word. My reaction is pure fear.
• I never read the end of a book until I get to it naturally. I have never gone to the end to see if I want to buy the book. Makes me crazy to watch other people do it.
• I am very sensitive to sounds, like styrofoam squeaking, fork scraping or wind chimes. They set my teeth on edge.
• I think the most evil invention is the gas-powered blower. Loud, obnoxious, and blows the debris somewhere else. The epitome of life in the United States: make it someone else's problem. If a gardener uses one around me, I make him stop
• I have to wash my hair twice. Just like the shampoo says. Lather. Rinse. Repeat. Even if I am washing in the middle of camping, I still have to wash my hair twice. It's a thing.

• I eat all of the ice cream and save the hot fudge, so I can have a bite of just hot fudge at the end
• I hate socks. I mean really hate them. I wear them about twice a year, when it is so cold my toes are blue
• I check the door, every night, twice before I go to bed. Even if I know that I locked it earlier

So there you have, it those are the things that make me weirder than you are. Think I am wrong? Leave your weirdness in the comments, and we'll compare notes.

What weird things do you do? Don't worry,it will just be between us

T, who is more screwed up than I thought

Technorati: neuroses, weird, psychology

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

It's Been One of THOSE Days

Anyone who ever said that life being a barrel of monkeys meant it was fun, well, I have a bone to pick with you. Do you have any idea how LOUD monkeys are?? Today is one of those days where you wonder, "WHY am I a parent?" JBear and JBean have been at each other all day. Lots of tears and screaming (and when I say screaming, I am talking air-raid-siren-quality tinged with Bonobo monkey..the kind of noise that makes your teeth itch and desire to find the nearest bridge to jump from. or maybe that's just me In any case, they have just been obnoxious to one another. Witness this exchange:

JBean: You stole my Playmobil bandana!
JBear: Did NOT. You probably lost it (as it is behind his back)
JBean: You're MEAN! You are so mean. You grow on a mean TREE!
JBear: I know you are, but what am I?
JBug: You are MEAN. You are ugly mean! I WANT MY TOY!
JBear: ok, you can have it.
JBean: ::waiting:: then: where is it?
JBear: I don't haaaaaa-aaaave it, I lied. (again, with toy behind back)
JBean: SCREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEECH!

[transmission redacted], as my head explodes...

Send chocolate... please? You'll be able to find me. I'll be the one in the corner, curled into a fetal position..

T, who knows what drives some people to drink in the afternoon

How about you? How has your day been?

Technorati: family", parenting", horror"

Spirit West Coast Wrap Up

I saw some great bands at Spirit West Coast, and our "seats" (which are in parentheses because I didn't actually sit) were awesome. We were right on the gate for almost every concert we attended. I did get some pictures, but they were uninspiring, so I am just uploading to flickr rather than here. But I figured linking the music we saw might help some, so here it is. Some highlights...first:

TobyMac was amazing! He had the most energy of anyone I have ever seen in concert, secular or Christian. I was tired just watching. And he is older than I am. Put me to shame, I tell you. I used to listen to him when he was a part of DC Talk. I went to to this concert thinking I would hate it, and went for the teenagers. He's a bit too hip hop for me, but I was wrong. I ended up loving it!

Let's Get This Party Started

Diverse City

Boomin'

Lose My Soul

We also saw Third Day..their concert was very intimate and it felt like sitting in their garage. They took song requests and played them, I had never seen that before...nicely done.

Call My Name

Believe

Love Song

Tunnel (not their official video, but I really liked this version)

Mountain of God

This post is long enough, so more to come throughout the week...

Who do you think puts on a good concert and is a must-see?

T, who is glad to be home, but sorry it's over

Technorati: Christian, music, video, TobyMac, Third_Day, Spirit_West_Coast, SWC, christian_music

Seven Years Ago...Today

(post from yesterday)

Jbean

I picked up the phone with a shaking hand and dialed a familiar number. "Something is wrong. Yes, I am headed to the hospital. I have a ride. It's too soon! Pray. I'll meet you there." I steeled myself. I don't cry under pressure. I am the one that everyone runs to for help, I don't fall apart when the going gets tough. I push through. It wouldn't do to fall apart. Someone had to keep it together; keep a clear head.

My mother-in-law showed up to take me to the hospital and I tried to quiet the thoughts that refused to be stilled. I took stock. I was exactly thirty weeks pregnant. And my water had just broken. I had done all the right things. This wasn't my first child, I had two others. They were easy pregnancies and even easier births. I knew about pregnancy. I make it my business to know what there is to know about any subject of interest. I knew that thirty weeks is too early. The lungs aren't viable yet.

I swallowed the sudden lump in my too-dry throat and prayed silently to myself. At the hospital, I had to register. I usually pre-register, but I had time, since I was not even into my third trimester yet. I wasn't supposed to be here. It was too soon. I wasn't ready. This was taking too long, I could feel contractions!

The admittance clerk read the questions with a studied boredom. She had seen everything before. When was the date of my last menstrual cycle? Was I peeing regularly? Did I feel sick? YES. Yes, I felt sick, dammit. My child's life was hanging in the balance and she wanted to know my bathroom habits! That's when I called out to anyone who would listen, "I am in labor! My baby is early, and I need HELP!" The triage nurse came running over, took one look at me, my ashen face and wild eyes and yelled at the clerk, "Do this later!"

They wheeled me into a room, and hooked me up to an IV full of mag sulfate. For anyone who has ever had it, you understand. For those who haven't... think the worst. First, it makes you want to jump out of your skin. And it makes you sick to your stomach. As I floated in and out of consciousness (something else that mag sulfate can do, not to mention stress) I dreamed about my baby. When I am really distraught, I pray in my dreams. I don't know if this is something that others do, or if it is a spiritual thing that only I do. I asked God to protect my child. And then I passed out.

I woke up in the hospital ante-partum room. The nurse was kind, but brisk: "You'll be staying here until you deliver. Since your water didn't break completely, we will try to hold off delivering the baby until her lungs are mature. The doctor will come tomorrow to give you something that will help the baby's lungs mature faster. But you could deliver tomorrow, or in months. We have no way of knowing. For now, the baby is fine." I looked up and met my husband's concerned eyes. Neither of us would voice the question that hung in the air. Now what?

Time passed rather quickly in the ante-partum unit. I had my computer, and dial-up modem service. I had magazines and tv to watch. I settled into a routine. My family came to visit a lot. I was woken in the wee hours to draw blood. And I grew used to the trickle of the amniotic fluid as it continued to replenish itself in order to allow the baby to grow. I willed myself to keep the baby inside, I am a control freak, and I was going to do this, no matter what. And I did. For a while.

I woke up one morning to contractions. I had been in the hospital for twelve days at that point. I called the nurse, and they monitored me. Assured me I was not having contractions, at least none they could detect. I kept saying I had them, and they monitored and said no, there aren't any. Relieved, I started to relax. Around five in the evening, they came to my room and the usual calm, easy-going nurses were all-business. Brusque and serious, they informed me that yes, I was having contractions, and I was being moved to the labor room now. My body had let me down for the first time, ever.

I have two other children. I have given birth twice before. I know what to expect. The other two were delivered at a high-end hospital that is so nice it has ocean views from the windows. They have LDR rooms, where you labor, deliver and recover in the same room. Bringing your own soothing music is encouraged, as is walking the hand-buffed hardwood floor and, rocking in heirloom-quality rocking chair. After birth, the baby is given to mama, and able to nurse immediately. It is truly a wonderful experience.

This experience was nothing like that. I labored in a hospital room that was old and looked like a hospital room. There was no ocean view, and no music of my choice. This was a Borg Birth from Interventions R Us. I had an internal fetal monitor, a catheter, an IV, an epidural. I was told that for the baby's safety, in the event of an emergency C-section, that the epidural was necessary. I had hoped for Bradley natural childbirth, but hadn't yet taken the classes at that point. After all, I thought I had plenty of time. My first child was born in six hours. My second child took four and a half hours. They were easy and almost fun births and I was able to immediately bond with them through breastfeeding.

I labored under the paraphernalia mentioned above for about seven hours. Finally, I had to push, and they transported me to someone's shower the Operating Room. It was green with tile everywhere and I couldn't escape the thought that I was giving birth in a bathroom. J was not allowed to enter until he scrubbed up and donned a gown and a mask. It was like a costume party gone awry. I never expected to be there. My first two were born with a minimum of fuss. There was some weighing and measuring, but no interventions. This birth, though vaginal, had a crash cart and a neo-natal team of six standing by.

I continued to labor and could feel the baby traveling down the birth canal. With a few small pushes, out she came. She weighed 3 pounds and 14 oz. She was 161/2 inches long. She looked like a small doll. She was breathing on her own, so the neonatal team wasn't needed, thank God. She had all of her fingers and all of her toes. They wrapped her in a blanket. I wasn't able to hold her or nurse her, but I did get to see her.

They congratulated me then, whisked her to the NICU. J went with her, and I was left alone with my thoughts. It would be many years before she would be diagnosed with autism. Right then, I just thanked God that she was healthy and breathing. And that's how JBean came into the world, at 31.4 weeks. She announced her presence with a bang. She still does, my daughter of thunder. She is seven today. Happy Birthday my sweetheart.

JBean, around 4

Mommy loves you.

Here is where you can wish her a happy birthday. I would be most appreciative.

T, who asks where does the time go??

Technorati: family, kids, birth, prematurity, birthday

I Think I Need a Vacation From My Vacation

I just flew in from Monterey and boy are my arms tired! ahem. Sorry. Still a bit loopy from spending a week with 55 high schoolers. We actually didn't fly, we drove. In big vans, one after the other. Me. and the driver. And 8 other teenagers. For. seven. hours. in. a row. Seriously, though, it was much fun! I am sunburned, exhausted and many dollars poorer (bought some CDs and shirts for JBug) but I had a blast. Teenagers keep you young, if only so you can keep up with them.

I have some new bloggy material...you can't spend a week with that many teens and have nothing to write about...so yay, me, for taking the lazy way out.

Many thanks to califmom and Mrs. T for posting for me while I was gone. And apparently, my cat hacked my blog as well?? Still, all's well that ends well, and I am home and rarin' to go. So get ready for regular posts again.. and today is my baby girl's SEVENTH birthday! geez, I am getting ollllld Hijinks to ensue forthwith...

insert bloggy love here*

*(this is where you tell me how much you missed me)

T, who missed you all a ton

Technorati: blogging, teenagers, vacation

Meow!

After days of stalking, I have yet to be able to scent whatever giant creature tried to break into the house, so I decided to distract myself with this electronic mess. Talking into these key things is not so hard since fellow felines pushed the tall-ies to get cat support into this "OS" thing under that "Universal Access" name. However, just trying to confine one's thoughts to this strange tongue of scratched squiggles does still take almost too much effort.

(Bah. Stupid webcam. So hard to focus)

Things have settled down nicely here, although Dontmesswith-Momma and Gets-Me-Food have been gone for a few days now. Annoying-Little-Sister and I have resigned ourselves to waiting upon their return for things to be completely restored to normal. At least the normal food and water have been kept regular.

Little-Loud-One has improved her behavior much of late, so I have generously allowed her to share my space and give me a proper due of scritchies and pets. She learned early on not to pounce at me, since I am by far the better hunter and champion claws. She still does have that annoying habit of trying to hug and cuddle me a bit too tightly. Bah! I am not a dog. Silly person. However, since she has been improving about being soft and gentle around me, so I have decide that the best thing is to just sleep laying against here while she plays, but in just the right spot so that she can not move without disturbing me. Hah! Trapped.

Bouncy-But-Kind still remains the favorite of my little sister. He is nice and all, but I am not quite sure why she can not see that Dontmesswith-Momma and Gets-Me-Food are better to lounge around with. He has been playing that silly guitar noise game again, but I properly have trained him to do so while I flop on top of his feet and sleep. Being the eldest, the largest open spots are mine by right, of course. He is very good with leaving us to our timing, and not trying to chase us. Unlike some silly ones, he understands how much faster and fleeter of foot I am.

Ah, well duty calls again. I am sure that Dontmesswith-Momma enjoys my being on here, since she set such an easy to paw password. But then again I did have to watch her a few times to get it down. Oh well... off to work...

Twinkie, who must nap

Technorati: Cats, Mice, Feline

Quick Clean Up! Mom's Coming Home!

Hurry up you guys! T's on her way home RIGHT NOW! We better spruce up the place. Get those kegs out of here, and those soggy pizza boxes. Someone get that lamp glued back together STAT! 

I was supposed to do a better job of keeping up the place this week while T was gone, but of course I managed to let the fish die, the lawn go brown and I'm not certain but I think that someone stole the birdbath out of the garden too. She is going to ground me. I just know it. I totally deserve it too. 

Anyone think that she can be bribed with decaf mint mocha chip frappuccinos from Starbucks? 

I'm Mrs. Tantrum, T asked me to help keep an eye on the place while she is at something called camp. I am worried about her as camp is a scary place from what I hear. I am also worried because she asked me to post for her. I mean she is on ALL TOP, and I am just ALL MEDIOCRE...has she lost her mind? I don't know, if you aren't certain, and aren't easily offended by a fierce potty mouth head over to my regular house Momma's Tantrum to see what I usually am up to. 

Mrs. T, who should not be left in charge of anything.

Technorati: EDIT_ME1, EDIT_ME2, EDIT_ME3

The Lessons Of Friendship

Hi everyone! I'm Mrs. Tantrum, T asked me to help keep an eye on the place while she is at something called camp. I am worried about her as camp is a scary place from what I hear. I am also worried because she asked me to post for her. I mean she is on ALL TOP, and I am just ALL MEDIOCRE...has she lost her mind? I don't know, if you aren't certain, and aren't easily offended by a fierce potty mouth head over to my regular house Momma's Tantrum to see what I usually am up to. 

I met T over on Twitter. She has been a blessing in disguise on those days when Bacon is giving me convulsions because of his Asperger's. He is 4 and was just diagnosed last October. The whole thing of finally finding out "what was wrong" was a HUGE relief, as it meant that I was not a FAILURE as a parent. It did mean however re-learning EVERYTHING I thought I knew about parenting a child. 

T is AMAZING. (I know you all know that already, but I want to tell you again.) She helps me on the days I need someone to say, "I get it. It is hard, but it will get better! Remember to breathe." She also reminds me to eat my vegetables and have a yummy Frappuccino from Starbucks every now and then. (Not that I ever need a reminder to go to Starbucks, but I do need a reminder to mix it up now and then!)

I only have one with HFA, I cannot imagine the kind of days that T has with 3. The days when they are all losing it, and they are at home during lessons with no where for her to go. Those are the days I try to let her know that I too understand, and to let it out. Those are the days that I wish that there wasn't thousands of miles between us! Those days are the ones I wish she was a couple of doors down so I could take the kids and let them all lose it together. 

Try to remember whether you have a "neuro typical" kid, or a "non-neuro-typical" kid the most important lesson that I have learned from T, to be there to lift up your friends. Be there to lend a hand when they need it. Be sure to ask for help if YOU NEED it. Above all, be present and be sure to learn as you go. There is nothing wrong with asking for help, it is actually better to ask for help than to suffer through things alone. 

Mrs. T, who is guest posting for T who is alone in the wild w/teenagers!

Technorati: EDIT_ME1, EDIT_ME2, EDIT_ME3

Who Are You? WE Want To Know!

Sometimes it feels like there is nothing new in the Blogosphere. But Citizen of the Month got it right. If you consider yourself a "nobody" or just not a CRSB (Celebrity Rock Star Blogger©) then you owe it to yourself to check out what he is doing to make the Blogosphere a happy place.

T, who is in, how about you?

Technorati: interview, celebrity, blogging

YMMV: Your Mileage May Vary

Hi Send Chocolate readers! T has bravely trusted me to guest post for her this week while she's off enjoying some waves and tunes up North. When I'm not guest blogging for T, I write for califmom.

One thing that T and I have in common is parenting children on the spectrum. My 11-year old son was diagnosed with Asperger's when he was six. It wasn't a shocking diagnosis, in fact it was a relief to finally have something official to call Bug's mix of unique behaviors.

There's a saying among the Aspie community, "If you've met one kid with Asperger's; you've met one kid with Asperger's." There are many similarities, but each child and person with Asperger Syndrome is utterly unique. It is not a one-size-fits-all world.

With that in mind, I'd like to offer some of the tricks-of-the-trade that have worked for solving various dilemmas in our family. As the title says, your mileage may vary. Heck, my mileage varies on some of these. It never fails that as soon as we think we've got this all figured out, Bug throws us a curve ball.

• White Noise -- A Godsend for sensory issues. We use a fan in Bug's room. It blocks out the sounds from other family members, and helps him relax at bedtime. In earlier years, we used a sound machine.
• Shorts Without Pockets -- Bug went through a phase of putting EVERYTHING in his pockets. It was a major compulsion, which included fistfulls of condiment packets from hot-lunch. One laundry load was treated to an exploding packet of soy sauce. That day, I went to Target, bought 5 pairs of shorts without pockets and the problem was solved. Without the pockets, he didn't think to hoard things on his person (just in his backpack, which was much more manageable). Eventually, he outgrew this and is back to pocketed pants.
• Multiples -- Whether it's a favorite stuffed animal, underwear or book, buy multiples. You will never regret having a back-up.
• Display Collections -- Bug is a hoarder. He likes to collect things and keep them. Hoarder can make for a cluttered environment, but collecting can look purposeful with just a few tweaks. One way to turn your hoarder into a collector is to group like items and display them. I bought 3 shadow boxes from IKEA, painted them to match Bug's room, mounted them above his desk and filled them with his collection du jour. Right now, that's rocks and Pokemon figures. In the past, it's been Hotwheels and stuffed Neopets.
• Elastic and Velcro -- Fine motor skills, aside from those associated with LEGO building, elude my son, so elastic waist pants and Velcro fastened shoes have been essential to him being self-sufficient. Keeping his clothing simple allows him to dress himself with less frustration. We like less frustration.
• Visual Cues -- Bug is on the high-functioning end of the spectrum, but he still benefits from visual cues. When he was younger, this meant charts showing pictures of each step of an activity. Once he started reading, written words still carried more weight for him than the spoken word. So, I send him chat messages when I need him to get off the computer, or email with things I want him to know about. We've had quite a few humorous chats this way, and actually makes Bug more social rather than less. He's willing to interact more often using Chat/IM as a tool. (As an aside, I must mention that we have strong Parental Control software on our family's network. So, Bug's not out chatting with the entire Internet, just our family.)
• Giant Suitcases -- Sometimes, when you travel with a kid who is very regimented, you need to bring it all with you. We have a giant blue suitcase that is Bug's. When we take a vacation, he can pile all of his stuff in there--his latest LEGO creation, half-folded clothes, Pokemon cards, his special pillow, a herd of Webkinz, and whatever else he's perseverating on at the time. If we're flying, we check the bag. If we're driving, we have a minivan with plenty of room.
• Headphones -- I quickly tire of hearing that Nintendo DS, and the world can get noisy, so a set of headphones that Bug wears to prevent me from hearing his games, and allow him to tune out the often overwhelming sounds around him help us all keep our sanity. Bug uses his headphones when he needs to hear something that's annoying to others, or when the sounds of others annoy him.

Having been Bug's mother for 11+ years, I could go on with this list, but I'd love to hear comments from some of you about the tricks and solutions you've come up with to help your child. I'm am forever intrigued by the creativity our kids inspire in us.

What makes your child's life a little easier? What keeps you sane?

I will be on vacation at Camp Rock for a few days, but never fear, I didn't leave you high and dry. I have a couple guest posters filling in for me, as well as a surprise or two. Don't miss me too much! I promise to miss you as I will have no Internet at all :::sob::

*I told a friend I was attending summer camp with my high school kids from church. At Spirit West Coast. She said "Oh, so you're going to Camp Rock!" Uh, no... summer camp, kids, music...dang. yeah, I am going to Camp Rock.

T, who misses you already

BlogHer: Get Over It!

Only the shoe department was closed, BlogHer was all-inclusive

Can you stand one more post about BlogHer? No? Well, sorry, but I have to write it. There is no snark here, and lots of love, but also some truth, I think. It is not my way to slam or gossip about others. I pretty much run a kind blog and live by the credo that if I wouldn't say it to your face, I damn sure won't write it here. Just because I know how to type does not give me the authority to hurt others with my words.

This medium is powerful. Even if you only have ten readers, those are ten people you can conceivably influence for the good. I always try to remember that though you all sometimes come across as just pixels and screen names, you are real people, with real feelings. You can be hurt, or angered by what you read. You may go to bed and think about it. It might really affect you, even though it is online. It is easy to bring into your offline life. All that to say, I don't understand the meanness that I am seeing concerning BlogHer at all!

I am no longer twenty-something. And maybe my perspective comes out of my experience. But people treat you the way you give them permission to treat you. You give them the power to hurt your or make you feel inferior. They don't have it unless you surrender your own will to them. So some of the "cool kids" didn't talk to you at BlogHer? SO WHAT. There were enough of us there that would have talked to you if you approached, and honestly, probably did.

me with Military Mama, littles, and GeekMommy

I don't know some of the Celebrity Rock Star Bloggers that some are so up-in-arms about. I know the group that tends to comment on one another's blogs, but for crying out loud, that's what friends DO for one another. There doesn't need to be a tear in your beer because they aren't commenting for you! They have established relationships. Find new bloggers to connect with. They exist. The Blogosphere is HUGE and there are a ton of people who would love to link to you, be your comment friend and just overall wet themselves with joy for the traffic.

I have nothing against the cool kids. They don't need me to defend them. I met some of them and partied with a few more, and they are awesome. Do I know them well? No. I have twittered with a few here and there. And will they remember me? I couldn't tell you. But you know what? I don't care. I had a great time at BlogHer, would go again in a heart beat. Because? It was what I made it. I didn't sit around and feel sorry for myself, I jumped in to meet the women (and men) that I wanted to know. There wasn't hero worship, there was simply a meeting of the minds and a sincere admiration for their work. In some cases, they knew mine. In others, maybe it made them want to see it. And then again, maybe not. I don't care. I went to meet women, validate my passion and learn a bit along the way. That's exactly what I did.

Leah, Aaron, Sarah, Mary, Lucretia & Shannon...the Lobby Party

It's funny, because I wrote a post about whether I should even attend BlogHer. There were so many reasons not to go. But I figured if I hate it, or I don't fit in, or they hate me....I had a vacation from my family in a luxury hotel. How could I complain? Sure, there were fears. I went to BlogHer not knowing a soul in real life. My expectations, though, were that I would fit in fine.

I was never a popular kid. I was the geeky one in high school, maybe I tried too hard, or didn't know what to do. I wasn't athletic and I wasn't beautiful or stacked. I was a late bloomer, and didn't "find myself" until my mid-twenties. My interests were too cerebral I was once told by my high-school crush, "You're too deep. We want to know what color the car is, and you want to know what the paint is made of." Well, crap, just shoot me, then. Because I am who I am, and I always was. I stayed true to myself, and it worked out well.

I guess what I am trying to say is that there were over a thousand women attending BlogHer. And you couldn't find anyone to connect with? Really? Or you just couldn't be part of the A Crowd, and it felt too much like your experiences in high school so you sat in a corner to pout? If I see one more post that compares BlogHer to high school or college, I swear, I am going to lose it.

Leah, living the dream and making the most of BlogHer

BlogHer was NOT high school. It was grown women, socializing with one another, getting to know one another, and in many cases connecting in a very strong way with one another. There will always be those who appear to be having more fun than you are. That's a given. The question is, can you find the fun there is to have? If you always look at the quarterback, don't be surprised if he is eyeing the cheerleader...and we can't all be the cheerleader but there are lots of other fish in the sea. Smarter ones, too. So the A-List bloggers didn't give you the time of day. Did you introduce yourselves to them, or snark about them from afar? Because not giving them a chance is just flat wrong.

For me, high school was over twenty years ago. I am over it.

Are you?

T, who doesn't want to hear anymore nastiness

These are some of the amazing women I met at BlogHer (more to come): califmom,Lucretia, ShannonRenee,Tara, Lara, Stephanie, Jennifer, Angela D, akaMonty, Sarah, weirdgirl,Kristina,To Think Is To Create, Crummy Cupcake, Susan, The Karianna Spectrum, Missy, Squid, Lori,Jean

Technorati: BlogHer, BlogHer08, perspective, women, drama

They're Going To Take Away My Cool Mom Club Card

The kids when they were younger. JBear is around 6 here, all about Indy

I hate Indiana Jones.

This is a confession I cannot make to my son, who is obsessed with All Things Indy. Since the age of four, (he's nine now) when he donned the infamous Indy fedora bought on a summer trip to Disneyland (it has the Indiana Jones logo inside, and he wore that thing for two straight years) We actually went through three hats because he wore them OUT. Indiana Jones has been a strong interest that my son comes back to again and again.

One of the hallmarks of high-functioning autism or Asperger's is perseveration. Really, it's a 50¢ word for "all the subject, all the time." Even when the last thing you want to hear about is said subject- for the love of God and all things Holy! ...It still continues.

As I said, this particular obsession has been alive since my son found out about it in Kindergarten and honestly? a lifetime of red Kool-aid and twinkies for the child that let that cat out of the bag. And yes, his mother, too. Especially his mother...

In our house, we have Indy action figures, Indy computer games, Indy Wii. We have Indy Legos, an Indy Whip, hell we even have Indy cereal. We have numerous thrift-store-find Indy outfits. It's so bad that my son commandered my tan messenger bag because he thinks it makes him look more like the satchel-carrying Indy. That's right. My nine year old carries a murse. I'm so proud.

Ask a psychologist and he will say that perseveration serves a purpose. It holds the child's anxiety often, and gives him a go-to subject ripe for conversation. Ask me, and I'll tell you that it's damned annoying.

Don't get me wrong. When my then-four year old came home and made it All About Indy I was thrilled. How cute, a four year old who has a role model! I admit, I indulged his play. A lot. I bought him tan pants, and shirts that looked perfect for his adventures. We bought him the aforementioned fedora. He watched Raiders of the Lost Ark and later, The Last Crusade. (he didn't see Temple of Doom, it's a bit rough around the edges for kids) We bought him the G.I. Joe Indiana Jones figure.

My adventurer, out and about

When people admired his appearance, I loved it. And when he was chosen to be featured at the Sword in the Stone show at Disneyland because he looked like such a cool kid? (and of course, cool kids have hip moms) I preened. I even overlooked the fact that he had to wear tan pants, everyday, even all through the 90 degree Southern California summer. "Creative Expression," don't you know?

My son vacillates between various interests. They are almost always mass-market media-inspired. The characters he has glommed onto have been a changing array: Robin Hood, Captain Jack Sparrow (I put a stop to that when he "stole" my wallet out of my purse and then told me about it... when asked why? "What do you expect, I'm a pirate!") Frodo Baggins, Peter from Narnia , Link from the Nintendo game, Legend of Zelda....and of course, the one that started it all: Indiana Jones. Each of these phases requires various accoutrements such as outfits, accessories and of course, toys from the lines of Commercial Cash Cow and Put China On Top By Importing Cheap Poisonous Plastic Crap. It keeps us on our toes.

I thought we had put the Indy love to bed, because we hadn't seen much of the fedora or the toys in quite a while. And then, the newest movie was announced. My son picked up his Indy Interest with a vengeance. He talked constantly about the movie.

What did I think it would be like?(I don't know)
Would Indy be old? (yes)
Would he still have his whip? (probably)
Would there be scary parts like in Raiders? (some intense scenes, I imagine)
Will you buy me the Lego Indy stuff (save your allowance)
Will I get to see the movie soon (when it comes out son)
What will it be like? (ARGH..the sound of me choking on my tongue as my brain explodes)

Lather. Rinse. Repeat.

He saw the movie opening night. He very much liked it. Shortly after that, we bought the Indiana Jones Lego Wii game. It is very entertaining, even if you are just watching it, highly recommend it, as an aside. The obsession came to a full rolling boil. He played the game. He talked about the game. He played the game. He talked about the movie. And the game. GAH! I was never so happy as when he finished the last level of that game.

Things seem to be settling down, now. He is still crazy about Indy, and he will corner anyone to tell them so. But there are signs that Indy may have run it's course this cycle and there is an inkling that change is on the horizon. My son created a level in his Nintendo game after this particular interest. What's that? The newest interest? The one that with just a small nudge from me if I'm not careful, will become a monster on a feeding frenzy? Star Trek. Yes, you heard me right. my son is becoming a geek. I suppose it isn't surprising given his genetics.

But...but...Star Trek??

God help us all.

How about you? What you are sick of?

T, who figures she will be assimilated

Technorati: Indiana_Jones, Indy, kids, obsession hobby boys

Flowers at the Swings

The Blogosphere is big, but it is also little. And when one hurts, we all hurt. That's why Jennifer at Pinwheels along with Shannon, have started a Flickr group to honor Evan's memory.

Simply take a picture of flowers near a swingset and upload it to: Swingset Flowers for Evan Kamida Christa took the first picture, what a beautifully simple and moving idea.

Memorial information and the donation fund can be found on Vicki's blog.

My flowers are posted. It wasn't much. But it was something. I am so very sorry, Vicki.

If you want to spread the word, please do.

Also, take a look at a mother's love

Thank you for caring

T, who wishes it was more

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

Now You Know Why I Drink Decaf

actually, I am slightly manic, it's why I don't sleep...

I am a HUGE Starbucks fan.. grande decaf mocha w/ chocolate whipped cream, that's my poison

How about you? Do you drink caffeine? What's your favorite drink?

T, who is up too late because of too much caffeine

Technorati: quiz, fun_stuff, boredom

A Magnetic Personality?

Welcome to new readers from Blogher! Glad you are here! I decided to post a favorite post from days gone by for your entertainment.

and my husband's chagrin

He is headed to Germany on a business trip next month. Shall we take bets on what he brings back?

A couple of weeks ago this exchange took place:

Jon: Honey, I have the opportunity to go to France for a convention.

Me: Oh, really? (meaning, woohoo, when do we go??)

Jon: it's completely last minute, and I have to get a passport. It will be boring, computer geeks all day

Me: Oh, really? (meaning woohoo, when do we go??)

Jon: yeah, what do you think? Do you think we can afford to pay for you to come along? What about someone to watch the kids?

Me: Probably not. I am very jealous, you know. I would really like to go. (meaning, I would really like to go!)

Jon: Yeah, next time.

Me: Well, at least bring me back something.

(then I went in the bedroom and cried and moped around a couple of days)

So, I killed him drove him to the airport, and I was stuck parenting 3 kids alone for a week. And still managed to stay mostly sane. It was no small feat. (or maybe it was the small feet...the pitter patter of them!) I will spare you the trials of that week...there isn't enough Xanax. Suffice it to say, he owed me. Big. Like, bring me back some bling from France big. Got it?

So I pick him up at the airport, and if you have ever been to LAX, you know what a zoo that place can be. I hadn't been there by myself before. What can I say? I live a very non-jet setting life. After circling the place twice, and pulling into the wrong parking garage and ending up going out the exit we arrived to pick him up. It is after 3 p.m. I have three children in tow who are tired, and ready to see their father. But no! We have to wait for the plane to deboard, he has to clear customs...did I mention I had three very antsy children with me? An hour later, he finally materializes and we head to the car. Once there, he gives the kids their souvenirs. Little beanie baby teddy bears that say the name of the city he was in: Lyon. How cute! Teddy bears for the kids. As I shiver excitedly, thinking of what he brought me. Jewelry? Candy? Something racy? ooh lala? Uh, no.

Ladies and gentlemen, it would appear the romance is over. THIS is what my beloved partner of 18 years brought me back, all the way from Europe. (not the frog, that is my cool magnet from the San Diego Zoo)

That's right. A kitchen magnet. I suppose I should have spelled it out to him. I mean, I have been married to him for so long, I should have remembered that when I say "Something" he hears, "something." In his defense, he was at his conferences all day, and the shops close early in France. And then on Saturday, there was a rail strike, so he couldn't get anywhere. And he is a computer coder, in any case. WYSIWIG- what you see is what you get. I know how literal he can be. And he is a great guy, but face it, he lacks imagination. He goes all the way to Europe and stays at the Holiday Inn.

And it had a really nice view of the slums behind the hotel, too. And did I mention it was 29 degrees and cold while he was there?

But. Big but. He went to France! And brought me back a kitchen magnet! This is the part where I throw a fit, and it might get ugly. Ah, forget it, I'll spare you that. You came for fun and games, not a huge downer.

Still, the magnet, it has a decent stick to it. You know how some magnets slip down the fridge whenever you put anything underneath them? This one stays. So, there's that. And it is cosmpolitan, sitting there next to the pizza delivery magnets and the kids' magnets and the "Carpet Cleaning, One Room $25" magnet that came in the mail. It makes me seem mysterious and interesting.

I'm keeping it. I want something to remind me on our 50th Wedding Anniversary of that Time He Went To France. It will make a good story. Either that, or it will be Exhibit A in the divorce hearing.

T, who must have a magnetic personality

So, what's the worst gift or souvenir that you ever got?

edited to add, I really do love the guy, honest

edit me rest of story

Technorati: vacation, marriage, souvenirs

Constant Comment...and so on....

There were so many comments from the last post, that I decided to address them in a post, to make sure to hit all of them.. Thank you all for commenting, you make this blog what it is.

heather: yes, exactly. There are times I will write a post that I think is important, and it will barely get any feedback. I don't think that means no one is reading. Unless you are a Celebrity Rock Star Blogger (CRSB), less than 3% of those who read actually comment. And then, the CRSBs often get comments so others can show off their own links or just be seen.

.

GeekMommy: yes, we did talk about this in the wee hours of the morning...you helped me put my feelings into words, and I thank you for it. ::mwah!::.

Thomas Dzomba: Yes, comments are only a part of the picture, but without them, it feels like playing Concentration and forgetting where the pairs are located. Or is it just me?.

Mel: thanks, and I like to read you, too!.

Elizabeth Channel: yes, I agree you cannot depend upon comments for self-worth. Write for yourself, first. I think that comes across in your content..

Loralee: funny on perspective, because I think a lot of bloggers would consider you as such..

Jody Reale: very good point, wherever you are, that's where you are supposed to be?.

Kate: I think it is hard to get off the "comments as currency" bandwagon, just due to the way the Blogosphere is set up. It's easy to say, much harder to do..

Gayle: thanks for the chocolate, and I agree with you about the overuse of advertisements. They can be distracting.

tarable: I agree, I also couldn't care less what the boys think. And, I'll sit at whatever table I please. Blogher was less like high school than I had been expecting, that was a pleasant surprise..

Liz: you make a good point; it is very important to know why you blog in the first place..

MPJ: I read about Google pulling your "ads" and it doesn't make a lot of "sense." I know there are other groups out there that have a better CPM, so check those out..

califmom: if you had a penis, it would have been grounds for a much more interesting (and freaky) weekend.....

Summer: thank you.

Susan: somehow the comments from my peers make me more excited than the possibility of getting paid to write. I am not sure why that is..

Marcy: the wonderful think about the Internetz is that there are so many different blogs and groups of people who blog. If you aren't interested in one, you get to click through until you find one you do like. What made Dooce so popular is she was one of the very first to do what we are doing. That, and she is a good writer. Truly, the comments I see on the CRSB sites are not "good post." They are pithy, and insightful and invite discussion. That is what I want to further here, as well..

Lara: I am over 20 years out of high school and sometimes that feeling comes up and knocks me in the nose and I ask did I ever really leave?.

Laura: exactly, writing is a state of mind. It's what we do..

Inzaburbs: you make a good point about blogging being a hobby or a job. Something to consider. And my strings are all tangled these days, I have no idea what leads to where..

Kacey: yes, my IRL (In Real Life) friends don't understand blogging or the Blogosphere. Not sure they ever will..

Maddy: welcome to the community, and to the discussion.

T, who says keep the conversation going, please!

Technorati: Blogher08, blogher, blog_comments