fantasy

I walked into the boys' bedroom yesterday morning to wake them up, and Thomas startled me by saying plaintively "I just wish the Ninja Turtles could be real." Perhaps he was dreaming about the Ninja Turtles and woke up with that thought on his mind- lying there in the dark, half awake, half asleep.

Moments like this often catch in my heart. Here's something I don't like about being a mom, a parent, a grown-up: I don't like being the voice of reason all the time; the dream-crusher. I remember how that felt as a child; to so love the book you were reading or the movie you were watching that it pained you to acknowledge that it wasn't real- that E.T wasn't hiding in your closet, your car couldn't really fly, or you wouldn't uncover a mystery if you took enough notes in your spy notebook.

I know that L has had to break the news to Tommy that he is not a superhero and cannot fly. I know she had to tell him this for his own safety. But yesterday morning, in the pre-dawn dark of my sons' room, I just said "who knows? Maybe they are real and we just have never seen them." And I felt like a 4-year-old all over again.

"it's like a party here"

I wanted to write about a few fun/good things that have happened this week. And because I can't figure out how to move these videos to a different spot, I guess I will tell my stories in reverse order.
Last night we went to a professional soccer game- our first. Bill had purchased this package through Easter Seals that included 4 tickets to a baseball game (our city's minor league team), 4 tickets to a soccer game, and some kind of tickets for Magic Mountain. We never used the baseball tickets, and I doubt we'll use the Magic Mountain tickets. But I'm so glad we used these soccer tickets! The night was a resounding success!!
Henry watched the entire game with excitement. He seemed to really follow what was happening, cheering and shouting at the right times. Well, he made a lot of noise the whole time, to be honest. That's what I was trying to capture in the above videos- the way he was hopping around and making sound effects for each kick and header. It so happens, though, that both times I started recording, someone fell down (our opponents were the NY Red Bulls), he turned to announce this to me, thought I was taking his picture, and posed. I still posted both videos- I think they're cute (but I'm a bit biased).
I was just floored that the game held his interest like that. You can see that he brought some books with him, and held on to them the whole time, but he never once looked at them. It's been a couple years since Kate played sports, so maybe he has just matured, but we would always need to entertain and/or feed him at her games. I can't be sure if it's something about soccer, or the stars were just aligned properly last night.
Of course Thomas enjoyed himself. He got to meet the mascot, got a free little soccer ball that they threw into the stands, and daddy took him all the way to the top of the stadium when he started getting antsy.
I probably had the least fun of all of us- only because I was freezing my behind off. As soon as the sun went down and the breeze picked up, I was cold. My teeth were chattering as we walked to the car! But no one else was cold. That tells you how much fun they were having! If I hadn't hustled us out of there, we probably could have stayed to get players' autographs and stuff. We'll have to go another time!
The other story I wanted to tell is from last Saturday (the day before the storm). I was having Henry work on his "all about me" poster for school, and of course Thomas wanted to create his own "all about me" poster. (Note to self- always prepare for 2.)
I put on a group of Paul Simon cCDs, set to shuffle, and we worked for awhile. Then Henry moved on to a puzzle, while Tommy continued working carefully on his poster.
At one point I came in to the room, heard The Obvious Child, and started dancing around a little. (I defy you to hear that song and NOT dance.)
Tommy looked around and said "it's like a party here right now."
He elaborated: "One kid drinking water, one big kid doing a puzzle, and a mom dancing. That's a party."
Then he added: "And my new friend is my brother."
A party indeed. Does it get any better?

why can't real life be more like preschool?

Me: Oh, man, tomorrow I have to go back to work.

Thomas: Mommy, do you have to work the WHOLE TIME while you're at work? Do you get breaks?

Me: Oh, yes, we get breaks. (If you only knew how many breaks I take to talk or read blogs...)

Thomas: Do you have snack?

Me: Well, yes, we do have snack breaks. (If you only knew...)

Thomas: Whose turn is it to bring snack next? Yours or Karen's?

four

Mommy, which one is for me? (Looking at my birthstone necklace. His stone is purple.) Oh, thank you mommy! I love purple! It's my favorite. Well, red is my first favorite, but then is purple. Which one is for Kate? Which one is for Henry?

(Seeing that the cooler on the back patio is empty) Daddy, did you drink all the beard?!

Mommy, thank you for this new lamp. This new lamp is really cool. Off. On. Off. On. Off. On. Thank you for this lamp. Henry, you have a new lamp. See? Off. On. Off. On. Off. On.

Weiner is another name for p*n*s. (Girl who goes to the same sitter) told me that. Yeah, weiner. (Girl who goes to the same sitter) thinks that's funny. Weiner. (Girl who goes to the same sitter) says weiner instead of p*n*s.
(Trying to ignore the subject is not making him stop talking about it. It will be a long summer before Girl who goes to the same sitter starts kindergarten.)

Where do skeletons come from?

How do airplanes know where they're going?

Why did you put Henry's name on his shoes? (Actually, I just put his initials.) What are initials?

Hey, what are these? Scissors?

Mommy, why don't I have any bones in my tummy?
I spilled.
Mommy, who do you want to be: Batman or Robin? You can be Robin. You really can. Even though you're a girl.
In our house, before it was our house, um, who was the family that used to live there?(me, after telling him about the previous owners): That's a really good question Tommy. You are like a detective- you ask a lot of good questions.Yeah. (pause) Mommy, did you know that some plants don't even need sun?! They don't. Daddy told me. Like those pink flowers with the leaves? They don't need sun!

Mommy, I thought I couldn't do it, so I called your name because I wanted you to help me but then I tried it again and I did it!

(me, after he has repeated the same phrase over and over): Why do you keep repeating that?
Because I want you to say it too. That's what Henry does.

Mommy? When I'm five I will call you Mom.

counting our blessings

Let's try to lighten the mood here by documenting some random funny kid stuff.

L had asked me to help out today by picking the kids up from preschool and bringing them to her house. Since 4 and 5-year-olds' lives are pretty boring, this was a BIG DEAL- much discussed ahead of time.

They all got buckled-in and I put in the High School Musical 2 CD to impress them as a cool mom. They opened up the console between the seats and pulled out the treasures in there: some happy meal toys, a portable CD player and a calculator. Then Tommy piped up:

"Guys, my car is really cool. S- look up. See that? See that? That's a hook that you can hang clothes on."

The hilarious part is that the other kids all agreed that the hook for hanging clothes on was a really cool feature. I'm thanking God that none of them said "oh yeah, well my car has a DVD player."

May my son always be this proud of the standard features of our life.

belated new year report

I've been having a bit of blogger's block.

A few good things that I want to report are kind of dwarfed by some crappy stuff going on right now that is not really fit for public consumption.

Some of you know what I'm talking about. Those who don't, I don't mean to be all mysterious... There's just good and bad in every family at any time and it really stinks at the times that the bad stuff is a big elephant in the room. You are all trying to pretend it's not there and at the same time avoid being stepped on by it. Or pooped on by it. Gosh, I could just go on with this metaphor (or is it a simile?) all day...

But I won't.

Instead I'll share some photos from New Year's Eve. Let me say up front that the boys stayed home with their dad that day, while I went to work, and remained in their pajamas all day. Also, they have both gotten haircuts since these photos were taken.

Tommy got his own Leapster for Christmas, I'm not sure why he was just watching Henry play with his...

We made our own pizzas that night:

And fruit salad:

The "fruit salad" was such a huge hit. They ate more fruit than pizza. Too bad many of us lose that natural love for fresh fruit and replace it with ice cream! (We had ice cream that night too, of course.)

I dozed with the boys and on the couch from about 10 - 11:50 pm, waking up to see the ball drop. Not a craaazy New Year's Eve, but a pretty nice one.

_______

Last weekend I took Henry and Thomas to the zoo. I know I write about that all the time, but it is what I like to do when I feel like we need to get out of the house. Henry doesn't last long at the playground, so the zoo is an outdoor activity that involves some movement and some interaction and some fresh air and doesn't cost too much money. It also requires some decision-making and compromising, which are important for all of us to practice. And, we all just like to see the animals.

Henry likes to shout "hello" to each animal, and hop around, flapping and humming, as he watches them. Of some of the animals he commands/requests certain activities: "jump in the water penguin! Jump in! C'mon little penguin, don't you want to swim?"

This time each boy got one of those souvenir pennies- they each picked the wolf pattern.
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Henry's teacher contacted me last week about making a change in his schedule. He had been joining the second grade class for language arts, but she was proposing that he join them for science and social studies instead. These subjects involve more discussion and participation, and less "pencil and paper" work (his least-favorite thing).

Their monthly "community trip" this time was to the bowling alley and Frisch's restaurant for lunch. Henry loved the bowling, but didn't eat any of his lunch. He ordered mac & cheese, which was undoubtedly different from his mother's very special Kraft mac & cheese. Next time I will have to preview the menu and suggest what I think he should order.

_______

This morning Thomas cried on his way to L's house. He said he didn't want to go there- something to do with D, this other boy she watches. "Me and D always boss each other" he sobbed.
"Well, you don't have to play with D," I offered.
"But I like to play with him!" He cried even harder.
"Just try your best to be a good friend and to play nicely with him."
"I do try my hardest but it just gets worser!"
"And if you have an argument and get put in timeout, just try again after your timeout. We just keep trying, right?"
"I know that but I just can't remember it because I'm not four!"

Oh my gosh. I didn't know whether to laugh or cry. The whole discussion was sweet and a little funny. But he was so so truly sad and worried about this- worried that he would "boss" his friend, or his friend would "boss" him. My heart ached. Sometimes life must seem so overwhelming when you're not four.

I'm sure Tommy was over the whole thing by the time I got to work. But I was emotionally spent before the workday had even started. Sometimes my life feels quite overwhelming. Do you think it's because I'm not 39 yet?

the writing program, and how I lost my marbles

(Not to dog Henry's teacher, but...) She always referred to it as "story writer", then when I asked for more info she told me that it's called "pro writer by Don Johnson company."

Upon further searching it appears to be called Co:Writer, put out by Don JohnsTon Inc.
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It was time to start watching for the bus this morning. Henry wanted to watch the next show on PBS (Curious George). Thomas, who had been pretending to be a baby all morning: crawling and speaking his big boy version of baby talk (everything starts with a G, like goo goo), was now not a baby anymore, but a big boy who was doing all sorts of pretend surf and skateboard tricks in the living room. Some of the tricks involved banging into me and his brother.

I was worried that Henry's morning would start off badly if his brother pissed him off, so I asked Tommy to stop being so wild. Then I asked him 3 more times. Then I screamed YOU ARE NOT BEING A GOOD LISTENER! I'VE ASKED YOU OVER AND OVER TO STOP BEING SO WILD AND YOU ARE NOT LISTENING TO ME! GO TO YOUR ROOM!

And thus, in the attempt to ensure that Henry had a good morning, I ironically ruined his morning instead. He was angry and crying when I put him on the bus, and wouldn't give me a hug or kiss- wouldn't even look at me, as a matter of fact. I've been mother to this kid for over 8 years now. Why do I still get it so wrong some days?

thanks for nothing, global warming

Monday was Thomas' first-ever field trip! To the pumpkin patch! I was so excited to go along! It was hot as hell!

Seriously, it was like 80 degrees when we got there at 9:30 in the morning. I was sweating from my stupid green tea latte and besides the bees were swarming around it, so I just dumped it out.

We didn't linger long over the donut and apple juice they included with our admission because the bees were so bad. But the kids had a lot of fun in this cute "scarecrow cave" maze that was just their size:

The barn full of hay bales and slides was fun too (except that I lost my sunglasses).

What would my grandpa say if he knew you could charge people money to let their kids climb around on bales of hay??!! Brilliant!

Another first for us was using the port-o-potty. I don't think I've ever taken Henry in one of those, so this was my first time realizing that a little boy can use a different area of the facility, if you get my meaning. Thomas was very entertained by this also.

I guess it's a bad year for pumpkins, so instead of actually riding out into the field to pick a pumpkin, we were just funneled into this fenced area and picked a pumpkin from a pile. Then we climbed into the wagon with our pumpkins to bake in the sun as we rode through the fields to the parking lot. As you can see, Thomas was not nearly as irritated by the heat as I was:

The trip was actually very fun. I didn't became really bitter until the last leg. We left our pumpkin in the car and returned to do all the fun stuff one more time. That's when I lost my son.

He went into that cute little maze again and I swear I was standing there watching for him the whole time. Other kids came and went and then I realized that I hadn't seen or heard from Thomas in a little while. I started calling his name louder and louder and the teachers asked what color shirt he was wearing... after maybe five minutes, one of the other moms said "there he is", and sure enough, here came Tommy, casually sauntering across the lawn.

(I didn't even notice until we were leaving that there was a pond on this property too. Thank God I didn't know that at the time I couldn't find him!)

If you'll look back at my Easter post, you'll see that the weather was unseasonable for that seasonal outing also, so I guess we're par for the course this year.
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Today was the darkest of days for my youngest son, for it was the first day he was required to wear... wait for it... are you sitting down?... long pants. Noooooooo!

I'm being a smartass, but really, he is completely traumatized by this. That's why last year I let him wear shorts almost every day of the winter. We would wear pants for the trip to L's house and bring shorts along to change. But this year he has preschool and I can't have him changing his clothes back and forth all day long. He needs to learn that there are rules of propriety in our society.

But wow, I really feel terrible enforcing these rules sometimes! He threw a major tantrum this morning.

Side note: I was really proud of Henry at this point. He got up from the table where he was eating his breakfast and said "I want to go upstairs for a little while." I objected "But the bus will be here soon." Henry explained "I want to get away from Tommy." I told him that was a terrific way of handling a situation- rather than shoving/pinching/screaming at Tommy. Moving away from something that bothers you is a great solution. So we sat out front and waited for the school bus. But I could still hear the little brother crying and crying inside the house.
During the course of his crying fit, Tommy also told me that he doesn't want to go to school, doesn't like school, and is shy there. He tells me this all the time: that he is shy at school. Most people (the teachers, L, Bill) kind of roll their eyes at this (because this boy is definitely NOT shy. Not with adults anyway). But Tommy says it often enough that it worries me a bit. Today I tried to suggest to him that he could play with some other kids in his class, and he replied "no- I'm too shy! When the other kids talk to me I'm too shy because I don't know them!"

I can't be sure whether he was over-dramatizing this because he was already upset about the pants. But I'd appreciate tips from any of you who've been through this with a shy kid. Or a kid who hates to wear certain articles of clothing.

See? New month, new attitude.

A couple Saturdays ago I tried to jot down notes as Tommy and I were playing. His imagination just enchants me- I think I am especially amazed by it because Henry's never been much into imagining things. So the stuff Thomas comes up with just always surprises me. At the time I think I will remember it to tell someone about, but then it flits right out of my head again.

This day I think he was Fastman, and rode in a thundercar. Before leaving to fight the bad guys though, he had to stop to put on his boy makeup and put in his boy contacts. (Can you tell that he follows me around in the mornings?)

I was instructed to ride next to him in the pinkcar, and he used a Wendy's coupon as a swipecard to start our vehicles.

We soon moved outside to easier battle bad guys by running around in circles around the front yard and jumping over things that daddy had recently planted in the yard. They were actually powerful plants that give you certain powers if you touch them.

Later that day we went shopping and, while he wasn't able to decide on a Halloween costume, (that's going to be a really tough one this year. We've already returned one Spiderman costume after the love was gone) he did get one of those little-kid backpacks that also have a pull-handle and wheels. He modeled that thing all over the store: see? You can put it on your back like this, and see? you can pull it on wheels like this. Wait mommy, I want to put my new jammies in my new backpack. Ooooh mommy, look at the Halloween decorations...

Here he has gathered all his Pooh buddies to watch a Winnie the Pooh video. (This is the couch in our basement- much as I would secretly like to, I have not hung a Harry Potter poster up on the main floor of our house.) Also included in the group are the ghost that makes spooky sounds (also found shopping that day) and a garage-sale St. Bernard dog. The dog makes a great superhero because he can carry all kinds of imaginary tools/weapons in the barrel around his neck.

If you're getting the impression that I spoil this kid- buying him unnecessary Halloween stuffed ghosts and backpacks-on-wheels, well, you're right. I do spoil him. I have realized that recently, as every day when I pick him up he asks "did you get me anything today?" It's pretty wrong that at least once a week I say "yes, I did! Some new socks, a Batman flashlight, a Winnie the Pooh video..."

I think I got into this habit with Henry, because his interests are so specific, and he is so hard to please, yet easy to please. I pick up Disney books whenever I find them at the consignment shop, or randomly order Star Wars coloring books for him on the internet to replace the ones that he can't find anymore and can't stop asking about.

But Henry has never seemed "spoiled" by it- he sometimes will ask if I got him something at the store, but I guess the difference is that he doesn't cry when I tell him I didn't get him anything.

So, I am trying to be more conscious of this and if I do pick something up for either boy, think about saving it for a later occasion.

Last night was just such an occasion- Henry's aunt had pre-ordered the Jungle Book DVD for him for his birthday. Today, October 2, is the release date, and of course we have it marked on our calendar. Well, it turns out that when you pre-order from Disney, you receive the DVD even before it is in the stores!!! Who knew? So it arrived yesterday, and Henry was over the moon about it!

It seemed like a good time to pull out the Ninja Turtle pajamas that I had picked up for Tommy last week, so he had something to be excited about also. Last night was a good night at our house!

And finally, relevant to none of this, here is a picture of the delicious salad I made today at Wild Oats:

I thought it looked so colorful and fresh that I would take a photo- I know, I'm weird. This salad cost enough money, I am hoping to make it last a couple days, and maybe I'll get this photo framed :-)

first day of preschool and I'm not gonna cry

Once the kids she cares for are 3, if their parents are interested, Thomas' sitter takes them to the neighborhood preschool. So the younger kids are used to riding along to drop off/pick up the older kids, and are really psyched for preschool by the time they are old enough to go. 3-year-olds go for 2 hours in the morning, 3 days a week. When you're 4 you go 4 days a week.

I didn't figure this would be a huge transition for any of us, considering that Tommy is familiar with the place, he is already used to being away from his parents during the day, and I wouldn't have to be dropping him off and be tortured if he happened to cry. But I do feel a bit strange to be missing out on this- like I'm missing his first smile, first steps, or first black eye (oh wait, I did miss that.)

We attended an "orientation" earlier this week- basically a way for the kids to get familiar with their classroom and for parents to ask a bunch of dumb questions that had already been answered in the letters the school has sent home. (Aren't I such a snob? And I wonder why I don't have more friends.) Tommy worried about what kind of toys they would have in his classroom, and my grasping-at-straws response of "blocks" did not put his mind at ease. (I was informed that "blocks are not toys.")

So I breathed a sigh of relief when he discovered a Batmobile in one of the toy bins! School would be ok after all.

That day I brought my camera, but the batteries were dead. (Why does that always happen?!) So this morning we stopped to snap a couple pictures before I dropped him off at L's house. Tommy does not seem to be worried about school, except to say that "I might be shy." I have tried to reassure him that it's perfectly fine to be shy in a new situation. And when you select as stylish an outfit as my boy did for the first day, you won't be lonely for long!

This morning I had to fill out this long questionnaire, answering questions about my child's fears, likes, dislikes, allergies, and other noteworthy info about his quirks. It took me no time at all. Most moms probably feel this way with their second child, but especially because of all his older brother's special needs, transitions like this with Tommy seem to be so much more manageable and less emotional.

And yes, we do own a hairbrush. Just didn't use it today. If I know L, she got him cleaned up before school. It takes a village, as they say...

first day of school 2007 and keeping my head above water

(Holding up 2 fingers to show he's in 2nd grade)

Um, yeah. The first day of school was a week ago. I'm not sure what my problem is- I just haven't felt moved to write much lately. Or even read much in the blog world. I guess we just need a break from our habits once in awhile- whatever those habits may be.

The first day went great for both kids, as have all the days since. Kate seems engaged and happy, and Henry has been getting good reports in the communication notebook. He has started saying "I don't want to go to school", which troubles me, even though I know it is normal. They are making him do work, which he didn't have to do at summer camp. So it's natural that he would have second thoughts about second grade (good one, eh?)

He doesn't put up a fight when it's time to get on the bus, which adds to my conviction that his protests aren't really sincere. But last night, as we watched Chicken Little before bath time, he chanted it over and over: I don't want to go to school I don't like going to school I don't like school I don't want to go to school. It's just so tiring to keep responding positively. And he does want a response- he expects me to say the right thing to comfort him. Sigh. I'm sure this will pass, but it is tiring.

My youngest son is being tiring in his own way. Doing a lot of whining and crying; and asking for a lot of things lately: when I pick him up from L's house, he'll ask "do you have a toy in the car? But I wanted a new toooooy! My toys are booooring!" Yeah- he's being quite a brat. Also tiring. I wonder if he's getting ready to grow or something because he's being very needy right now. He's waking up more at night and, as I mentioned before, crying each night when it's time to put on his pullup.

Henry's teacher sent a list of questions for him to answer before school started (I wanted to share it here but didn't get around to it). The questions were along the lines of "when I'm by myself I like to ____" "when I'm with my parents I like to ____", (I coached his answers a little bit so they weren't all watch a DVD). For the question "something I don't like is ____" Henry answered Tommy's crying voice. I don't like Tommy's crying voice. I thought this was a pretty telling response, considering there are so many other things Henry doesn't like! This must be the one that bothers him the most.

I don't want to act like we need to walk on eggshells around Henry, but I have been telling Tommy that it really bothers his brother when he cries, so please don't do it.

I guess it will just take us all a little while to get used to the new routine. Something still feels a little off right now, although the anxious dreams have gone away. I've just been feeling extra sensitive lately- I'll read a troubling news story and then it takes me days to shake it. It's the 10th anniversary of Princess Diana's death, and September 11th will be on a Tuesday again. (I remember that 9-11-01 was a Tuesday because we have a recurring meeting on the second Tuesday of every month...)

OK, enough of the moping. Here's some good news: I've always been too cheap to join a gym, but I finally broke down and joined the rec center here where I work. I just can't jog outside when it's 100 degrees, and I don't want the weather to be an excuse to not exercise at all. So I'm trying to do that regularly again, and that's probably helping with the sleep too. I'm also getting used to listening to CDs again, now that we have a CD player in the car.

I feel like I'm slowly coming back to the real world. Raising little kids (and teenagers) is like treading water in the ocean. Now that they're a little older maybe I can climb up on a raft, take a break, and drink a gin and tonic...

a couple things about me and some updates

Well hell, I've been kind of half-thinking of this "8 things" thing for a few weeks now and it's time to just let it go. I am going to write as many things as I can think of, and that will be that. This would be easier if I didn't include so much trivia about myself in my regular posts (I'm afraid of escalators, I stay up all night watching Lost...)

So.

1. I have a tattoo. Working with college students as I do, I know that tattoos are quite commonplace now. (I'd say that 50% of the student employees in our office have tattoos- many have a big one across their lower backs.)

But when I got mine, back in 1990, the summer before I turned 21, it was still a somewhat unusual thing to do. (That sounds kind of like a lame plea to be considered a rebel!)
A girlfriend and I cooked up this idea and didn't tell anyone. She has the same string of flowers running up her ankle- her flower petals are blue and mine are yellow.

That same summer this friend and I took a road trip to Ocean City, MD. We stayed in a teeny tiny house for a week with some other friends who were working there for the summer. We met surfer guys with dreadlocks and worked on our tans (probably the only time I actually got a tan). I was reading No One Here Gets Out Alive, about Jim Morrison, and we listened to a lot of Janis Joplin in the car. I guess you could say it was kind of a flower child summer for us- 25 years too late.

Funny how many details I remember about that summer- I think I knew at the time that it was kind of the last summer I would have free. When I got back to school in the fall I got a parttime job (at a daycare center) and worked and went to school in the following summers.

I bet I haven't seen my tattoo friend since our 10-year high school reunion (9 years ago)! We exchange Christmas cards and the occasional e-mail. But hopefully she still smiles when she stops to think about her tattoo. (Or maybe she has had it removed!!! I'll have to ask her!)

2. I played the violin from elementary school through, I think, 10th grade? I stopped playing at some point during high school because orchestra class conflicted with newspaper or yearbook class, and I cared more about those. Like many things in my life, I look back and wish I would have put more effort into the violin- I hardly ever practiced. But I do feel that it gave me an appreciation for classical music that I would not have gained otherwise.

During Bill's end-of-season basketball pizza party this year, the boys and I explored the school a bit (not the same elementary school Henry attends). We discovered that the stage was set up for an orchestra or band performance- with chairs and music stands. I described to the boys what that's like: you get dressed up and your mom and dad are out in the audience waiting to see you. You sit down with your instrument, and get your music all ready. Then these curtains open up and you start playing music! For everyone to hear!
They both seemed fascinated- especially Henry. So I hope that he will learn to play a musical instrument someday.

3. I was a precocious reader in elementary school and read Gone With the Wind in 6th grade. A friend had read it first and then loaned it to me. We went on to watch the movie and collect some memorabilia. I remember my 6th grade teacher saying "maybe you'll want to read it again when you're older. You might get more out of it."
Now that I'm an adult and read children's literature (our friend with the lightning-bolt scar) I guess I've come full circle.
So, there- 3 tidbits about me.
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I wanted to update about Henry's gymnastics class, with some photos:
There he is, right in front of the instructor, doing just what she is doing.

Here, he is ready to swing out over the "pit" of foam blocks. The other kids hold on and swing back and forth before dropping. Henry does not grip the trapeze at all- once he dropped straight down onto the floor.

Walking backwards on the low balance beam.

I have to update, also, on the other boys in the class. They had all improved so much in 2 weeks (we missed a week because of vacation.) I mentioned that to the one boy's aide, and she replied that he usually has an extra-hard time when something is new, which makes perfect sense.

_________________

Tommy said something cute on vacation: he was in my room with me while I was getting dressed. I opened my drawer and started shuffling through my shirts. "Wear that one," he said, indicating a particular, melon-colored striped polo shirt from American Eagle (hand-me-down from my teenager).

"OK," I said "I'll wear this one."

"Good," he replied "you look very handsome in that shirt."

Do you think that kid hears a lot of compliments?!

library, fainting, and acting locally

So there's this book Henry likes to borrow from the library: The Return of the Jedi story tape and book. He likes it so much, and it is so old (I'm sure it's from when the movie first came out, when I was a kid), that the last time we returned it, several pages had fallen out.

That was probably 6 months ago, if not more. And every time we've been to the library since, he looks for it. Every time, I look it up in the computer and the status says DAMAGED. I figured it was beyond repair, and they were just going to take it out of circulation. I have searched for a copy online to buy, but haven't found one.

As he has grown older, Henry has gotten better about understanding when something can't be his way. He doesn't throw a screaming fit in the library, like he might have a few years ago, but he also won't let go of asking about that book. He's a persistent one.

We were at the library yesterday and, before I could stop him, Henry took matters into his own hands, went up and asked the librarian about the book!!!!

She went into the back room, retrieved it, and taped it right before his eyes! (She said she had been hoping to replace it, but she also had not been able to find another copy.)

Henry was beaming. And so was I. I can't explain how proud I was of him for taking the initiative to ask. He wasn't afraid to talk to the librarian, all on his own, and she (mostly) understood just what he wanted and satisfied his request.

It gives me hope that he'll be able to go far on his own in life. Maybe farther than me, who is content to just believe what it says in the database, and not question it!
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Awhile back I wrote about the predisposition Henry and I have towards fainting. At that point, much to my relief, it had never happened to Thomas.

Well, that changed this weekend. When I picked him up at his sitter's Friday, he was jumping on her trampoline. He fell, like he does 30 times a day, 5 days a week. But this time he kind of stopped crying and lay still. An older boy happened to be up there with him and we asked the boy to pick Tommy up. When he did, I could see that Tommy was arching his back. I scrambled up there as best I could (have you ever tried to get up on a trampoline FAST? With that damn safety net all around it?) as Tommy's eyes were rolling back in his head. I sort of tossed him out to L, and by that time he was back "with us". Looking around like he didn't know where he was, and very pale. The whole episode probably lasted 45 seconds. But it sure scared the hell out of L and me.

I was hoping that, because of his more advanced communication skills, Thomas might be able to tell me more about what happened than Henry ever could. But he didn't seem to remember it. All he said was that he fell and his leg hurt.

I believe this might be a tendency that we've inherited from my dad's side of the family- others on that side have had similar incidents. My dad is one of 11 children, and grew up on a farm. I sure wish that my grandma was still around to ask about this. I suppose by the time the 5th child did this she didn't even flinch- just patted him on the head and went back to work!
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In other news, I met another real-life parent of an autistic kid at gymnastics class. The first evening I laid eyes on this boy as he barreled through the door and headed towards the bathrooms, and heard the way his mom spoke to him: "Shoes. Cubby." I knew he must be autistic.

Last week she struck up a conversation with me about Thomas. She said she'd been watching him and thought he was a cutie (well, duh.) I kind of awkwardly worked into the conversation that I had an older son who had an autism spectrum disorder, and she confirmed that her son did too. It's funny, it seemed like she was drawn to Thomas for some of the same reasons that I get an extra kick out of him: because he's so TYPICAL. Just does normal little boy stuff, most of the time effortlessly. Moms who don't have a child who struggles doubtlessly take that for granted.

Anyway, I felt a little silly because she was asking me if I'm on some local listservs and chatrooms, which I'm not. She has friends with ASD kids who live in my neighborhood! But I don't know them. For one thing, her son is 4, and most of the other kids she knows are the same age. It's interesting how many more opportunities there are for kids just a few years younger than Henry. Interesting and frustrating, but I'm not bitter, am I?

So maybe I'll meet some new people and find some new opportunities for Henry out of this. I'm a little reluctant in some weird way. Maybe my internet friends feel safer to me than real-life people. On the internet we can choose which days we want to interact and which days we don't. And we can control what our friends know about us and what they don't... Gosh, I sound paranoid. And anti-social.

good news/bad news

Let's start off with the bad news, in order to end on a high note:

-Thomas has an ear infection. It's not causing him any discomfort, because the tubes are doing their job of draining the pus. It's yucky because it looks like snot is running out of his ear, and I need to figure out something to plug/cover his ears for swimming.

This morning he said "mommy, when I walk like this (marching), the drops in my ears make a funny sound." When he is able to communicate details like that to me, it makes me realize how little Henry is able to tell me. It is very difficult for Henry to identify anything that is going on with his body, much less translate that to an adult. Bittersweet.


Well, I guess that's all the bad. Now on to the good:

-Kate got a job for the summer- making subs at a new restaurant up the street. She seems really excited about it.

-We got a new (used) car! It's a 2004 Chrysler Pacifica in the red color. Our minivan and our Honda Civic were both over 10 years old and had over 100,000 miles. Driving this car makes me feel the way I felt when we first bought our house and had central air and a dishwasher: like I'm an imposter. Surely I can't be enough of a grownup to have a house with a dishwasher, or a car with a CD player and doors you can lock and unlock with your keychain!! (And don't forget grownup enough to make a car payment every month. Yuck.)

Tommy and I have been listening to the Beach Boys as we drive.

-I have finally found someone to do therapeutic horse-riding with Henry. I know I should wait until we try it to write about it, but I am so excited! I spoke to this woman last night, and then Henry and I had the following exchange:

me: "Henry, do you know who I was just talking to? A woman who is going to teach you how to ride a horse! She said we can come to her farm on Wednesday."

Henry: "She is?" (Eyes wide. He starts kind of dancing excitedly and looking around.) "Daddy, where are you?" (Then he stops and turns back to me) "What is her name?"

me: "Pam. Miss Pam."

Henry again: "Daddy, where are you?" (Bill calls to him from downstairs, but then Henry turns to me again) "On which day? On June sixth?"

me: "yes, on Wednesday- June sixth."

Once he finally had all the pertinent details, Henry danced on downstairs to tell Daddy. Henry kept saying "I can't believe it!" And it took him awhile to fall asleep last night.

I hope the experience lives up to the excitement.

happy stuff and weird stuff

Tomatoes are one of Henry's favorite foods. So earlier this summer I thought it would be fun to plant our own, and maybe discover something to make Henry enjoy going outside a little more. We started small with our vegetable garden: just 2 cherry tomato plants in plastic pots.

(In our early days together, Bill and I naively planted a vegetable garden that quickly got out of control. Although he maintains a beautiful yard full of flowers and plants, we have stayed away from vegetables ever since.)

Here is Henry, picking a few tomatoes to enjoy with his dinner:



The first time I told him the tomatoes were ready and he could pick one, he said "I need some help please." That is almost always his response, before even trying something. I had to talk him into trying it himself, and then of course the tomato just easily fell right off the vine into his hand. He was so excited.

See the papers in his hand? Those are pages he printed off the Disney website. We could build an addition to our home with those things, there are so many lying around.
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Thomas is doing great with his potty training! I was totally lazy over the weekend, and didn't even try it. But when I woke him up Monday morning, I sat him on the potty, put him in underpants, and told him that if he used the potty all week, I would take him to the store and he could pick out a toy.
He went on to pee on the dining room chair while eating his breakfast. But after that, he had a great day at L's house, with NO ACCIDENTS! I was so excited and proud that evening that I took him to Target and bought him a toy! Yes, completely defeating the purpose of the bribe. I don't care. Henry didn't use the potty 'til age 4, so I am just beside myself at the thought that we might be done with diapers forever at age 2 1/2!
Thomas even used the potty at Target after our shopping. The toy he picked out was a Power Rangers sword (made out of foam), with a scabbard to clip on to his pants (or underpants, as the case may be):



Have you seen Chicken Little? It is a favorite at our house, and we especially love the music. I play it in the mornings to wake the boys up. Patti LaBelle and Joss Stone get things started, and by the time the Barenaked Ladies come on, we are all dancing and singing. Isn't it great when a kids' movie can keep the adults entertained as well, viewing after viewing? This soundtrack even has Henry liking REM (one song at least, maybe I can turn him on to some others), and you would melt into a puddle if you heard Henry singing along to the Five for Fighting song. And then he quotes Chicken Little from that scene in the movie: "c'mon- all I need is a chance!"
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I told mom-nos that I post about plenty of my own weirdness on this site every day. But I did think of a couple additional random weird things about me:
- I never finish a cup of coffee. I love coffee, but must just drink too slowly. A size small (or tall) is too small for me- I always order a medium (or grande). But then I never, ever, finish it. Sometimes I even re-heat it and drink some more, but there is just always a bit left in the bottom of the cup.
- I am compulsive about the laundry. We tried having the teenager do her own laundry to avoid some stress, but I couldn't handle it. I have to sort it, examine it, re-wash it if it is still smelly or stain treat it and soak it if it is stained. This takes an inordinate amount of my time, time that could be better spent cleaning other areas of my house! (I am not nearly compulsive enough about other chores.)
- I have several scars on my arm from around age 5 or 6. I was standing outside the front storm door, my toddler brother was standing inside, and we were both banging on the glass. My left arm went through the window, leaving several long cuts. What a nightmare for my mom- can you imagine??!!
The thing about these scars is, I bet people notice them and wonder if I've tried to slit my wrists?! My co-workers and other acquaintances might be imagining all kinds of drama in my past, when really, it's just evidence of playing with my little brother.
That's all the weirdness for now- I'm sure there will be more to come.

...you get what you need

This morning I jogged with music! I had been thinking about asking for an iPod for my birthday, in October. But my dad got himself an iPod a couple weeks ago and gave me his MP3 player. I haven't gotten around to putting my own songs on it yet, but today I decided try it with dad's music selections. I got off to a great start (after forwarding past the entire Rocky Horror Picture Show soundtrack!) with Smooth by Santana. Wow- what a difference some music makes! Instead of listening to myself huff and puff I can imagine that I'm in my own music video... The only problem is that I feel tempted to start dancing down the alley instead of jogging. And I catch myself "air drumming" and feel a really strong urge to SING along. If my brothers are reading, they are laughing right now- my dad used to always sing along with his walkman while mowing the grass. Dad has a good voice, but you know, with the headphones on you can't really hear yourself and sound pretty off-key.

Anyway, the next song was Angel, by Sarah McLaughlin (I'm too lazy to look up whether that's the right way to spell her name). I skipped through some Beach Boys songs- they weren't really fitting my mood. And then came on the Rolling Stones song from which my post title comes. And I started thinking- I didn't get what I wanted- my own iPod with my own songs on it. But maybe I got something better. Some songs that my dad chose, songs I might not have, but now that they're here I'll keep them.

One question, though: how do you keep the little ear bud things in your ears while jogging? I kept having to adjust them the whole time- is that just how it goes?

Yesterday Henry was in a leopard mood. I think Diego started it all, by saving a baby leopard on Saturday morning cartoons. Henry went and found his "Big Cats" zoobook magazine, and asked me to find the rainforest puzzle (featuring, of course, a leopard.) Here he is working on the puzzle:


Tommy and I were headed out to the back yard. Without prompting, Henry grabbed the puzzle and said "I want to do my puzzle on the back porch!" This seems to be a concession- moving one step closer to actually doing something outside. We call it the "porch", but it's actually sort of a 3-season room. From there I at least feel like he is getting some fresher air, and can hear us playing in the yard. Maybe one day he'll decide we are having so much fun that he wants to join us.

My friend's daughter (T) came over yesterday evening. She is just a few weeks younger than Thomas and they are good buddies. Here they are playing in the sandbox/dumptruck:

It's a good thing my friend had a daughter and I didn't. T is always wearing a dress and looks so cute. I think if I had a daughter now, she would just wear t-shirts and shorts, 'cause I'm used to boys (and I wouldn't want to have to get pizza stains out of that white sundress).

Oh, Tommy said something so funny today. He has been saying "butt" a lot. I've been trying to encourage him to say "bottom" instead, but that may be a losing battle, considering he spends the day with a couple of older boys at the sitter's house. Anyway, today he fell and said "oh, I'm hurt! Mommy, tan you tiss my butt?" While I stifled a laugh, he said "MOMMY TISS IT!"

So I did. Is there something wrong with me?

MOM-NOS is one of my favorite people. Definitely my favorite person in the category of "favorite people I wouldn't recognize if I saw them face to face". :-)

Anyway, she had the clever idea of asking her son to answer the "5 things" questions, and then tagging some of their kid cyber-friends to do the same.

Here are Henry's responses (all are direct quotes):

5 things in our refrigerator:

1. fruit
2. vegetables
3. something to drink (I like orange juice)
4. ice cream (strawberry is your favorite)
5. bacon

5 things in my closet:

1. clothes

5 things in my backpack:

1. Disney papers

5 things in our car:

1. wheels
2. 'puter screens *
3. story tapes

*This comes from our Barney and BJ Visit the Police Station book. Officer Mike shows Barney the police car's computer screens, which show him where he is needed. Henry often gestures to the dashboard and talks about our 'puter screens.

I guess I chose a bad time to ask Tommy the questions. He was in his manic, I-am-really-tired-but-it-doesn't-seem-like-it-because-I'm-being-so-wild mode. He responded "jelly" and "strawberries" to the first question. But to any further questions he would only say "I am running running running running..." as he ran around the living room in circles.

the weekend

Saturday I visited my oldest friend. She lives 2 1/2 hours away, and it's been 2 years since I've seen her! She has an 8-year-old son (E) and a daughter (L) who was celebrating her 4th birthday. I faithfully attended her son's first few birthday parties, but last year got away from me somehow. I decided to just go for the day and just bring one of my kids- traveling light.

I brought Thomas, since he is the "easier" child to take to a birthday party. He's not as likely to be caught with his fingers in the birthday cake, or opening the birthday gifts, which has happened with Henry more than once.

I have decided, though, that next year I will go to E's party, and I will bring the whole family. People seemed disappointed that Henry wasn't there. And a couple times when I made comments about Tommy, like "he is a good eater. He'll try all different kinds of things" my friend would jump in and say "well Henry was always a really good eater too." I am probably being paranoid, but I got the feeling that she felt she had to defend Henry, or thought I was favoring Thomas.

Here's the picture that will get me nominated for mother of the year:

He's bouncing on his Spiderman beach ball party favor, with a sucker in his mouth that came from the pinata. (What a fun party!) But I probably should have told him to stop doing that unsafe thing, rather than thinking "he looks like such a KID!" and taking his picture.

Here's another shot where he looks like such a KID. We were trying to get a picture of me, my friend, and the kids (easier said than done). Besides the flash reflection right above my head, what is my son doing with his hands?!





















(You can see how tan his little legs are getting. He seems fortunate enough to have his daddy's coloring.)

I had a brainstorm this weekend and thought of a good way to store all of Henry's "Disney papers." (Up until now he carried them around and would spread them out on the floor. Then I would pick them up and hide them somewhere until he asked for them again. Some of them have been clutched so long by his sweaty little hands that they are frayed and worn.) I slipped the papers into those clear plastic sheets and put them in a 3-ring binder. Now he can carry them around, look at them easily, they won't get damaged, won't make a mess, and won't look so odd.

progress reports

Bill and I have noticed a strange phenomenon, thanks to the birth order of our children: because our autistic child was born first, we delighted in his development. We were pretty much serenely oblivious to Henry's developmental delays. (It helped that the pediatrician kept saying that he was fine.) But now, as we watch our NT toddler grow, we are completely enchanted by his development.

I think that, for many families, when their second child has an ASD, they are likely to be noticing all the things that infant/toddler is not doing: not using imaginary play, not participating in reciprocal conversations, not expressing his wants and needs verbally, not showing interest in other children.

For us, the opposite is true. Lately we find ourselves laughing at Thomas' antics and amazed by his verbal abilities. It's like, rather than thinking that Henry had a disability at the time, now we think that Thomas has some kind of uber-ability!

Here are some of the fun things he has been doing lately:

-He is enjoying his toddler gymnastics class. He acts pretty shy and quiet during class, but then one night at home he started rolling all over the floor and couch, saying "I doing dymnastics! Hey, guys, watch me- I doing dymnastics. Guys, guys, tan you tlap? Tan you tlap when I do my gymnastics?" Wanting us to applaud after each stunt.

-One day we were waiting out front for a friend. Tommy noticed the neighbor across the street and said "there's Frank."

I said "yes, there's Frank. It looks like he's cutting up a branch. Hmmm, it looks like his tree is... well, no, maybe it's just late to bud." (I was just thinking out loud, at first I thought one of his trees was dead, but then decided not.)

Tommy looked at me and said "mommy, what you talking about?!" As if I was just a babbling idiot.

-He likes to pretend that he is a baby, and pretends to talk baby talk. He'll say "I the baby and you the mom and daddy the dad." OK Tom, that's not a real stretch for us. He will pretend that the ketchup bottle from the play food is his baby bottle.

-One day, out of the blue, he said "I Swiper." He grabbed my slipper and threw it and said "you'll never find your slipper now!" (For readers who aren't familiar with Dora the Explorer, that's what the bad guy Swiper does.)

That's just normal kid stuff. But Henry never did things like that. So when Tommy pretends to be Swiper? That totally blows my mind.

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Last week we had Henry's IEP meeting for next year. He will continue to work on goals that will allow him to succeed in the inclusion classroom. Aggression was our big focus this year. Now that it has been managed pretty well, they are concentrating on a couple specific things: Henry's reactions when other children are being redirected (i.e. disciplined), and learning to interact with his peers- initiating play and taking turns with less teacher involvement.

A couple exciting bits of news:

1. Henry's IEP doesn't have any specific academic goals because he is at or above grade level and will continue with the 1st grade curriculum next year.

2. They hope to increase his inclusion to up to 80% of his day next year. I actually half-joked during the meeting that this news made my stomach upset. Inclusion is not much of a goal for me right now, and I don't want to get my hopes up that Henry will attend the regular class next year and be "just like the rest of the kids." I mean, I know he may never be. But it seems like as long as he's in a "special" class, then that's easier to remember.

But if he's really part of the first grade class next year, I'm afraid I'll be disappointed if he doesn't make some friends and start getting invited to birthday parties, etc. etc. Or if it doesn't work out well and we have to start scaling back, then I'll be disappointed.

I just need to not have any expectations, and see what happens.

this family brought to you by Walt Disney

I wanted to share a few random stories and then realized that most of them involve Disney in one way or another. Henry's perseveration has influenced the rest of us- that's bound to happen. In a similar way, Tommy is showing a lot of interest in doing puzzles- the 24-piece, 3-6 year old puzzles. So he may become a puzzle prodigy too, modeling after his big brother.

Here are a few bits and pieces of our life recently:

-The Tramp in our current favorite Disney movie refers to Lady with the endearing nickname "Pidge" (a derivative of pigeon, I suppose.) When Henry recites these lines to himself (with his autistic accent) it very much sounds like he is saying a different nickname for a female: bi*%$.

"Hey, what's the matter &*$%@?"

It's stopped me short a couple times during the past week.

-All the dogs in the pound sing a song about Tramp. One bulldog kind of sings backup: "bum bum bum ruff, bum bum bum ruff." Bill sings that part sometimes and the boys think it's really funny. Tommy asked me to sing it last night. I kept trying, but was doing something wrong. He kept saying "no, mommy, sing 'bum bum bum ruff'."

I sang it over and over, when all of a sudden his face lit up and he said "yeah mommy yeah!" with this huge smile. I finally got it right.

-On the subject of a different Disney movie... We were discussing Toy Story one day, and I noted that Sid is a mean kid.

Henry said "Sid...kid... they rhyme!"

-Last night Tommy was playing with our little people doll house and playground sets. (Bought in an attempt to get Henry to practice some imaginary play- they remain in pristine condition 3 years later.) So I was pretty excited to see a child play with these things in the way they are intended. But before long Thomas took two characters to the top of the playground slide, made them fight, and then said "mommy, my girl push my guy down. Talk to her." So I told her that pushing is not ok and to be nice and to apologize to the "guy". But they went right back to fighting. So Thomas' imaginative play seems to mirror what goes on at the babysitter's house. Poor L. She must get tired of telling the kids to be nice.

-Yesterday Tommy and I stayed home with a tummy bug. But I seemed to feel a lot worse than he did. He kept wanting me to play and stuff. At one point I said, kind of to myself, "do you hear me sighing a lot?" And he said "yeah mommy. You is sighing a lot." I had to laugh because I doubt he really knows what sighing is. And he obviously doesn't get the implication that a person who sighs a lot is feeling unhappy/tired/irritated.

And my final issue for today: Eileen, where are you? I've added my home e-mail address to my profile, if anyone feels like writing me rather than commenting. I'd love to hear from you. It's my home e-mail, so I don't check it as often as my work, but I will check it.