College Room and Board will be cheaper than I thought

This exchange took place in the car on the way home today:

JBean: Yay! When JBug goes off to college, can I redecorate the room just for me, all to myself?

JBug: No! I will be living at home, forever, in the basement.

Me:
[to JBean:] JBug isn't going off to college, she is living at home for a while while she is IN college. Don't sell her off just yet...you two will still be sharing a room.

[to JBug;] You can't live in the basement; we don't have a basement. Besides, we have Basement Cats...there would be no room in the basement.

JBug: JBear will be living in the basement. Playing first-person shooter video games.

Me: Probably. You can live in the ceiling. We don't have a Ceiling Cat.

JBug: ...

Christmas Comes But Once a Year (thank GOD!)

I am not a fan of the holidays. I know, hard to believe, right? My mother is a huge lover of the Christmas season. She would bake for days, shop, and stay up all night to wrap presents on Christmas Eve. Her packages were works of art. The magical mornings of peeking at the tree while it was still dark to find that Santa had been there and artfully arranged the presents are some of the best memories of my childhood. And I want my children to have that, I do. And I try to do all of the things my mother did, but I just...can't. And so. I pretty much hate Christmas.

Every year I tell myself it will be different. I will start earlier. I will have a better attitude. But by mid-December I am usually stressed out, ready to curl up in a fetal position, and wait for it all to be over. Instead, I pull myself up, give myself a good talking-to, and finish the preparations at the last minute amidst much self-loathing. It isn't fun.

And this year? Is going to be even less fun. My eldest, JBug, goes in for spinal surgery on the 15th of December, which means I have to have everything done TEN days earlier than usual. She will be in the hospital for at least five days, but should be home for Christmas. So I will have little time to scour the shops, maul the mall, or gilt the gift. I have to just get it over with quickly.

So on that note, I am trying to get into the spirit faster than usual, which is why I found this little video of Newfoundland dogs dressed up for Christmas and carrying things in carts. I hope it brings you joy.

T.

It's up to us: what will we do about bullying?

Today's post was written by my 16 year old daughter. Please read it, I think she has something important to say. xoxo T.

Tyler Clementi.

Asher Brown.

Seth Walsh.

Justin Aaberg.

Raymond Chase.

William (Billy) Lucas.

You might not have heard these names. These are all boys who committed suicide in the last few months after being bullied due to their sexual orientation. Who knows what they felt? Alone, ostracized? Like life wasn't worth living. Like they didn't matter? Their acts of desperation could have gone unnoticed. Thing is, we saw. The internet saw. First one, then another, then hundreds, then thousands of people took a stand. In their own way, everyone said that these boys…and so many like them…matter.

Then, the internet spoke. (Well, it didn't really. It's inanimate. Go with me here, I'm making a point.)

It started with an idea.

Social media spread the idea to quite literally thousands of people.

The idea was simple: wear purple (the color of spirit on the LGBTQ flag) on October 20, 2010 in memory of those boys, and for all the other kids out there who may feel the same way.

So today, I wore purple. To my surprise, there were other kids in my (conservative Christian) class who wore purple. Not to mention the thousands of people all around the world. Teachers, parents, talk show hosts. We took a stand against bullying, against the idea that what happened to these boys was okay.

Bullying is common now. Before, insults were thrown in front of a class, maybe twenty people. Now, cyber bullying is the norm. Hateful anonymous comments, bringing down the person in front of everyone on the internet...whole schools. But kids will be kids, right? They need to suck it up. Learn to ignore it. A common answer to the problem, and not a solution.

But you know what?

I think it's going to be my generation that changes it. We know social media. Some of us communicate mostly through email, facebook and texting. We get how to make a difference. And we do. My generation will be the one that steps up and says it isn't okay.

It isn't okay to make fun of someone. To discriminate based on age, or race, or sexual orientation or disability or intelligence or anything else.

It isn't okay to have an Us vs. Them mentality.

It isn't okay to talk about how loving God is and then hate anyone who is different.

It isn't okay.

And when that happens, when we step up…it will change.

In 1983, D.A.R.E (Drug Abuse Resistance Education) was founded. It has changed lives. Imagine what it could be like if there was a similar approach to bullying. In one generation, D.A.R.E made drugs uncool. Nearly every school age kid knows what the red ribbon means. If something similar could be accomplished for bullying...imagine what could happen.

Hate is learned and we need to lead by example. The things we learn in kindergarten can affect the rest of our lives. If we start from the bottom and work up, we can change hearts. If we could show from the beginning that bullying isn't okay...just imagine it.

If we change the mindset behind bullying, imagine how drastically different our world might be.

It's going to start with us.

Now, don't just imagine it. Let's make it a reality.

fun with pi (Pie?)

This is one of my favorite videos...and pretty much what being owned by a cat is like:

My children love this, and adopted the finger pointing to mouth with the plaintive "MROW?" as the universal sign around here for, "Hey, I need something to eat!" It gets my attention and they think it's cute. (it is, but shhh!)

So, with that in mind, last night, my daughter, JBug, who is pretty tech-savvy, sent me this through my IM:

So I responded with a link to this:

Yes, we are geeks. What of it?

T, who may or may not have important exchanges through IM and never a word spoken

What's the geekiest thing you did this week?

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Fun with Closed Captioning OR Yes, my son is..unique

click to embiggen

Life with kids is always interesting. We were watching Star Trek tonight and we needed to put the closed captioning on over the noise of the clothes dryer. It didn't work so well, as you can see.

Me: What?? What crazy person typed this?!
JBug: they need some serious spellcheck!
Me: This is not going to work! How can we hear what they are saying?
JBear: It’s ok, I can read it, I speak Idiot.
Me: “…”

T, who never knew my son was bilingual

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Gotta have a fling

I am sitting here, minding my own business, writing like a, like a...fiend. I have a lot of writing to catch up on, and am mostly done. I reward myself with a fling, a candy bar that m&m Mars makes, that is like..well, not quite, but almost as good as sex. If sex was a finger of chocolate layered around a cookie and some truffle cream.

My daughter, Miss I am 15 going on 30, walks in. She is just visiting and I am half-listening when she grabs the wrapper, and notices who makes the candy bar. Now, I am in trouble. My daughter is, if not an animal rights' activist, certainly someone who thinks carefully about her choices. Last year, she took Biology, but didn't dissect anything. She did her entire lab assignments via virtual dissection. And ended up with an A. She is currently boycotting this candy company due to animal testing.

JBug: Ugh. You're eating that?
Me: Yup. Yummmy.
JBug: Some little mouse died so that you could have chocolate!
Me: That was nice of him.
JBug: ::eyeroll::: I meant, you are killing mice with that chocolate.
Me: Now chocolate is a weapon?? Must not hurt much. I mean, it gets so soft and squishy so quickly...

I win. She shakes her head, makes an exasperated noise, because honestly mothers can be so dense? and stalks out of my room.

Leaving me, to my chocolate. In peace. Now, who's the smart one?

T, who says don't come between a momma and her chocolate

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Someone lied, it is definitely NOT the Happiest Place on Earth...they don't even have a bar!

I have a new gig, and would appreciate your support. I am now the LA Special Needs Kids Examiner over at Examiner.com. My latest article is about The Big Bang Theory and why I think it is such a great showcase for Asperger's Syndrome. Help me feed my kids, buy them shoes. Check it out. Stumble it, love me. Kisses.

For those who weren't following my tweets on my daughter's birthday, it was pretty much the day from hell. We got there, and it was beyond crowded for a Tuesday. I have no idea why. Our day was full of ride breakdowns, crowds, bad food (son is gluten and dairy free, remember, and ended up stuck in the bathroom due to dairy in the hamburger bun)... that took a long time. We finally left Disneyland and had a good dinner, but the 20-somethings next to us were dropping the f-bomb liberally and making my kids uncomfortable. It was just a day we would all rather forget.

click to see it bigger

It's a world of...

horse butt!

most pictures of my daughter look like this

I did manage to get some good pics of the kids, so it wasn't a complete wash. I quite like that they are standing on the C and the A, which makes CA for California. Will have to go back and get pictures on all of the letters...You can click on the pics to embiggen.

T, who has had enough of DLand for a while

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I Will NOT Accept That She's a Decade and a Half, that's a Damn Lie... Statistic

I looked at her, she looked at me. We eyed one another warily. I was completely new to this gig, she was fresh from the oven. I held her legs aloft, determined to pull this off. I was woman, surely I could accomplish this task; it wasn't too daunting for me. I grasped the edges and pulled. The side came loose with a loud ripping sound and I trembled. One more to go. I pulled firmly on the tapes, with newfound confidence. I had this! I pulled the diaper out from under her bottom,the cool Spring air hit her parts and she let out a wail. More like a car alarm Four alarm fire air raid siren. I promptly burst into tears, knees knocking and... peed myself. No, really, I did. I bet she doesn't even know that. well, now she does.

I was a new mama, straight out of the hospital, with a baby that I couldn't give back. She hadn't cried much in the hospital, I wasn't used to it, and the sound of her distress really set me on edge. Fatigued muscles that were never meant for passing a grapefruit had just had enough. Thankfully, I was wearing a huge postpartum pad, the kind they give you on the mother/baby floor attached to those sexy net underwear you know the ones, a cousin to support hose and the size of grandma's shower cap and that could probably absorb a small lake. (good thing!)

And that was my introduction, fifteen years ago, today, to motherhood. It got better.(spoken in my best Monty Python accent, of course)

Happy Birthday, baby girl. I am so very proud of you in so very many ways. and if I enumerate them here now you will be even more embarrassed, so I should probably quit while I'm ahead.(and not tell the story of how you projectile-pooped all over the nursery door in front of Daddy's coworkers at the very next diaper change...)

T, who is NOT old

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A Walk With a Purpose (I would walk 500 miles...)

For the first time, my family and I participated in the March of Dimes March for Babies this weekend. We walked with Team Maddie and really felt part of something bigger than ourselves. Is it wrong to say we just about enjoyed it? My son walked the whole three miles with J and me, but JBean rode in the wagon all the way. It was a pretty easy walk. Heather and Mike Spohr lead the walk at the beginning, holding the banner for the entire March for Babies. Heather also spoke about Maddie, her prematurity and how instrumental the March of Dimes was in Maddie's treatment as a baby.

There isn't one picture of me there, but I assure you, I was. I tend to take the pictures, which always happens. There are so many events that I have no record of attending because I was busy behind the camera. I figure my children will grow up traumatized since I apparently was never around. Oh well, drop another quarter in the therapy jar...

It was an honor to walk for Team Maddie, and doubly so because JBean was a 31.4 week preemie, and spent 30 days in the NICU, so March of Dimes was a great place for us to be, too. My family agreed that we will make it an annual event, and start seeking out other walks for other causes as well.

These are just a few pictures. If you want to see them all, check out my flickr account.

T, who really WAS there

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Dammit, J, I'm a Writer, Not a Mathematician!

My daughter taught herself to knit. She just decided one day that she wanted to know how, looked up some videos online, practiced. Once she hit a snag (heh) she found someone who could explain it to her.

She has a rather scientific and literal mind. So I am pretty sure she will be thrilled with this:

A mobius strip??

math-based knitting. Are you still here? wait, it really is interesting...

Or there is Guerilla knitting.

Ants not included...

Apparently, knitting isn't just for Grandma anymore!

T, who knitted for about 5 minutes last year, then forgot how

Trick or Treat!

Happy Halloweeen!!

Frodo, Arwen and the Butterfly Fairy Princess say BOO!

J really likes to carve pumpkins, and he is good at it

Headless Horseman

Princess Jackie O' Lantern, drawn by JBean, carved by J.

Silly Face

Say

and Vote for

Nov 4th

Designs from Yes, We Carve blog...a brilliant idea.

What's your favorite candy?

T, who likes Kit Kats and Mounds bars

Technorati: Halloween, Obama, vote

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

"Move Yer Bloomin' Arse!"

one of the most well-known scenes from the movie

Today JBug and I went to the South Coast Performing Arts Center to see My Fair Lady. It is one of our favorite movies, and classic Audrey Hepburn. Honestly, I didn't have high hopes, simply because how do you improve upon Audrey Hepburn and Rex Harrison? But a friend had tickets for a song, and the price was right, so off we went.

I had hoped to take pictures of JBug in front of the Hall, but I forgot my camera, unfortunately. She was happy anyway, because she doesn't like pictures. Given a choice, I believe she would never take another again: I think she is worried the camera will steal her soul or some such. I want her to pose for pictures. They are my only insurance that she had a happy childhood! I have to have some defense when she tells her therapist as an adult how awful I was! I wasn't awful, remember, we saw Wicked! Yeah, ok, no pictures, but I have a picture of you getting the tickets for Christmas! And remember, we saw My Fair Lady the summer that you graduated from the Eighth grade! HOW can you say that you hate me?? That's what I'll say years from now.

The cast we saw was the London revival and honestly, it was some of the best set design I have ever seen. The lighting was spectacular, and I never notice that kind of thing. But at one point, in Professor Higgin's darkened home, he opens the curtains off to the side and the spot looks like a paned window with sun shining in. It was very impressive, truly. The sets were all mechanized, but moved so fluidly that it wasn't obvious when they were changing. There was no dark time, the sets were smoothly transitioned at the end of songs, so that the next scene was ready. Seamless and the effect appeared to be effortless.

Lisa O' Hare, the actress who played Eliza was wonderful. She managed to take a role that Audrey Hepburn epitomized and make it her own. This Eliza was strong, and resolute. Christopher Cazenove, best known as Ben Carrington from the 80's hit Dynasty played Henry. He was also very good, though I do believe he was channeling Rex Harrison. His intonations were absolutely uncanny, and at times I had to remind myself this was not Rex Harrison playing the part. He performed well, but I found myself wanting a bit more from him. What did he bring to the role? I wanted to see his take on Henry Higgins, not his take on Rex Harrison as Higgins.

Higgins' mother and Eliza's father were stand outs, in my opinion. Eliza's father has the most boisterous role in the show, and he worked it out. Henry's mother was also very good, and a character one would do well to befriend.

The only time I scratched my head was during the song "A Little Bit of Luck." All of the musical numbers were staged and choreographed well,and they should have been, since the choreography and staging was done by two-time Tony Award winner Matthew Bourne, currently known for his work on Mary Poppins. It was directed by Trevor Nunn, himself a recipient of four Tonys. However during "With a Little Bit of Luck", there was an ill-conceived Stomp-type performance with trash can lids in the middle. It wasn't terrible, just distracting. It was an attempt to update a show that is timeless, and was wholly unnecessary in my opinion.

All in all, it was a very entertaining play, and I would recommend it. JBug liked it very much, but then, she always likes the theatre. Now that I know there is an educational program with discounted tickets, I will have to plan ahead for next year. Even with traffic home an HOUR when it is supposed to take 20 minutes it was worth it. We noticed that in September "Legally Blonde" is coming to the theatre. I am sure we will have to see that one, too.

T, who is a closet Broadway musical fiend

Technorati: Broadway, muscials, My_Fair_Lady, family