Sorry about that last post- I was truly feeling sorry for myself, and doubting myself because I had done something stupid. When I'm feeling that way, every little stupid thing like taking out the trash seems to weigh on me. Anyway, thanks for the pity party.

Oh, and my boss gave me a Starbucks gift card on Friday for "staff appreciation week"- perfect timing, eh? I'll not be without my non-fat latte for the next few weeks, at least.

We had a nice weekend. Bill's office had their company "picnic" at a bowling alley this year. We tried to prepare for the worst, hope for the best. And we were pleasantly surprised with a fun afternoon. When we first got there we were initially waylaid by the video arcade, and I was concerned that one of us would have to stand in there with Henry while the others bowled. But I had a hunch that Henry would enjoy watching the bowling, if we could get him away from the video games, and I turned out to be right. He did his excited, running-in-place, hand-flapping, humming happy dance and cheered for each person as they bowled.

Tommy was totally into it, and would grab his 7-lb bowling ball and walk right up to the lane when it was his turn! We had bumpers and a ramp to assist the kids with actually getting the ball down the lane. (I've been noticing something lately: as Tommy's development and physical growth catch up to Henry, it's as if they are closer in age than they really are. It's pretty cool, and gives me hope that they will continue to grow into playmates. But it makes me wonder also, how long until Thomas passes Henry by?)

After bowling, we were invited back to a co-worker's house. This, also, went surprisingly well. There were 2 other first-graders there, and I had a couple of those moments when you're punched in the gut by how "un-typical" your child is. But they weren't really like punches in the gut this time, more like a tap on the shoulder. I would notice it and then shrug and move on.

The mutual interest in Star Wars was enough to give the kids a little common ground. Henry stayed in the house and looked at the resident boy's books, calendars and movies. He then requested to watch The Return of the Jedi.

I also think my frame of mind helped make the evening comfortable. I used to feel uncomfortable that my kid wanted to stay in and watch a movie, while all the other kids were playing ball outside. But as we have grown accustomed to having a child with an ASD, and as our family, friends and co-workers become accustomed to the idea, it now just feels easy to say "Hey, is it all right if Henry looks through your movies? That's something he enjoys doing." And no one seems to bat an eye.

I don't want to let autism be an excuse that allows Henry to be held to different standards, but it just feels nice to not have to try to cover it up either.

I should add that this is the first time we've gotten together with these friends in over a year. We really don't socialize very much. So that's why I am so happy about how it went. And it probably went so well precisely because we don't do it very often. If we tried to make Henry hang out at someone else's house until way past his bedtime every Saturday night, it would not go so smoothly.

One aspect of the evening did make me a little uneasy (aside from the fact that I drank too much wine): I talked quite a bit with a woman who has an 18-month-old son. (They didn't bring the boy with them.) She asked me a lot of questions about Tommy's development, and Henry's, and lots of questions about autism. It became clear that she is concerned about her son's development. But all I really sifted out of the discussion was that he doesn't speak in sentences (but does have some speech) and they feel he is inordinately preoccupied with watching Sesame Street.

Have any of you ever been in that situation? Where a parent is asking you for advice about their child? I am more than comfortable telling people about Henry and my own situation, but felt very unsure what to tell this woman. I found myself saying "lots of children his age are preoccupied with Sesame Street, I don't think that's unusual." Lots of people said things like that to me when Henry was small, and that was not at all what I needed to hear. Without even seeing this child, I am hesitant to recommend that she have him evaluated. But I also don't want to put off her concerns, because we all know that the mommy instinct is a good one.

I'd be interested to know what some of you would tell this woman. Her husband works with Bill, so I'll be able to ask him to pass some information along to her if appropriate.

elements of an identity crisis (or at least a pity party)

My mom has this friend from college named Sandy. Sandy has 4 kids, mom has 3, and they are both always really busy. Sandy and mom have both always been dingbats - with a large love for life and lots of interests and activities, and still always finding time to talk on the phone for hours.

Once, several years ago, mom went to visit Sandy. I forget the circumstances exactly, but somehow mom and Sandy sat in Sandy's house talking ALL night, while Sandy's car was left running out in the driveway. I believe they were frightened by it when they finally noticed a running car out in front of the house late at night. Oh, we all loved that story! Those 2 kooky ladies- how could you do something like that? What a couple of dingbats!

Last night, after work, Thomas and I stopped at the grocery store. We meandered up and down the aisles, and ran into an old friend from my days working at the daycare (she just dropped her oldest son off to start college, and looked like she might cry when she saw Tommy holding a box of oatmeal creme pies and said "I left Alex with a box of oatmeal creme pies.")

My family called me no less than 4 times on the cell phone, to make grocery requests.

When I reached the cashier, I couldn't find my keys, to hand her my "advantage card". Uh oh, I thought, I must have left the keys in the car or, worse yet, lost them.

(You see where I'm going with this, don't you...)

As Thomas and I walked out to the parking lot, I caught sight of the minivan. When we got closer, I realized, to my horror, that IT WAS STILL RUNNING. What the hell?

Who's the dingbat now?

I wish I could say that was the worst event of the evening.

Thomas was delighted to discover a spray bottle of sunscreen in the backseat. "Mommy, tan I put on some sunscreen? Betause I-I-I will get a sunburn." I half-heartedly tried to talk him out of it: "it's getting to be nighttime. The sun isn't going to be out much longer, and I don't think you'll get sunburned."

"YES, I wiiill!"

OK, whatever. I was still reeling, trying to figure out how I had gotten me, my purse, and Thomas out of the car, grabbed a cart, and walked into the store, all without noticing that the van was still running.

So halfway home, Thomas (of course, why didn't I see this coming?) gets sunscreen in his eyes and starts screaming. By this point he had it ALL OVER his hands and face, and now was frantically rubbing his eyes- just making it all worse.

By the time I called Bill AGAIN, to tell him to be prepared for a screaming child who would need an immediate bath, I think he was ready to pack up the rest of the family and leave us two brainiacs to fend for ourselves for awhile.

No- actually he took pity on me, and when The Office came on at 8:30, he offered Kate $10 if she would get the boys ready for bed, so that we could watch one of our favorite shows together! (Kate would have done it for free, but since he offered the money, she wasn't going to turn it down.)

That was nice. But still, once I got in bed, my mind starting running... We were having a rough night, so the boys went to bed later than usual, and Tommy had eaten a tootsie pop for dinner, so wasn't sleepy (sugar buzz). "Great" I thought. "Now it will be hard to get them up in the morning, and our whole day will start off badly."

They actually got up ok. But if I think too much about the series of events that make up my morning, I get such a discouraged feeling:

Get up, go downstairs. House smells like trash. Tie up garbage bag and put out on back porch. Henry doesn't have any clean underwear: do a load of laundry. Spend too long typing in my blog- hurry up and hop in the shower. Boys wake up, get out their clothes and my clothes. Pack Henry's lunch, label miscellaneous school supplies, fill in missing phone number on emergency form. Get boys dressed, drive Kate to school, stopping at Starbucks on the way (for Kate and Henry- I had made coffee at home). Come back home, wait for the bus. Take bag of trash out to the trash cans. They are filled with rain water, so dump out yucky rain water first. The whole while Henry is shrieking "I don't want to go to school, I don't want to get on the bus." Bus arrives. Literally drag Henry to the bus, finally carrying him. He starts crying real tears and saying he doesn't want to go to school. Half of me feels sad for him, other half wants to say "tough. Every kid has to go to school. Get over it."

When I got to L's house to drop of Thomas, and told her about the past 14 hours, she said "well, where are the Timbits?" She always jokes that she can tell if I'm having a bad morning, because I show up at her house with Timbits for the kids.

But, you know, I'm on this goddamn diet.

first grade and the day before

(I am so, so sorry, but I don't have any pictures to illustrate this post. Trying to share my teenager's digital camera isn't working out so well, and I think I will need to put one on my birthday & Christmas lists this year. I did take pictures with the regular camera, of course, but will have to post those later.)

Yesterday I took the day off to spend with Henry and Kate before school started. Kate was up-and-at-'em for some reason, so we had dropped Tommy off and purchased school supplies at Target, all before 9:30 am. After that, I suggested Henry and I walk to the library. We haven't walked in awhile, and it was a completely perfect day.

Once in awhile I get these bursts of mommy energy, combined with mommy guilt. I feel like every other autism mom is constantly vigilant, constantly finding opportunities to teach her child, constantly stretching his boundaries and exploring new talents, while I'm just reading my kid the same old Disney stories and letting him play on the computer.

So, in those moments, I get these big ideas like "let's learn to ride your bike!"

We have this teeny tiny bike that is really more Tommy-sized than Henry-sized. I pushed him on it for about a block, encouraging him to "pedal, pedal, pedal!" And trying not to sound frustrated when, every 10 feet or so, he back pedaled- putting on the brakes while I was trying to push.

After the first block, we parked the bike, and walked the remaining 3 blocks. Henry spontaneously read road signs and seemed excited that he had "rided" his bike. Our time at the library was delightful. We even read a couple non-Disney books. On the way home, as we approached the waiting bike, he started proclaiming "I don't want to ride my bike I don't want to ride my bike!" At this point, I was willing to admit defeat, and just said "I don't care- don't ride it then. I'll just carry it."

He hopped right on. The little s--t.

We struggled home on the bike until I was sweaty and near the breaking point. We went inside and my savior Kate gave Henry some lunch while I took a shower.

The thing that discourages me so much is that he just doesn't get how to ride a bike. I realize that we all have to work on that skill. But most kids on a bike with training wheels can pick up the pedaling motion pretty quickly. It's just not intuitive for Henry. And most kids, once they get the motion, have the instinct to want to do it on their own, and to do it fast. Henry seems like he'd be perfectly happy to have me push him forever.

So it occurs to me to just give up and just never teach him to ride a bike.

But then I look at all the other things he's learned to do and I know that I can't give up. He can do it, and once he learns how, he will feel prouder than any other new bike rider has before him. But it's just so hard, and sometimes (lots of times) I just want things to be easy. For both of us.
_________

That afternoon, we visited Henry's teacher and classroom. She had sent him a letter over the weekend:

Dear Henry,

My name is Miss C, and I will be one of your teachers this year.

Tuesday is the first day of school for our class. Our school is Highland Elementary.* It is a fun school. Our room number is XXXX.

We have a great playground and library.** We will have a fun time and learn lots of new things.

Miss J and Miss B are also teachers in our room. They are very nice. You will do some things in our room and spend other time in a bigger 1st grade class.

I can't wait to meet you and start school!

Your teacher,
Miss C

*again, not the real name of his school.
**I mentioned on the phone that the library is one of his favorite spots.

So I was feeling positive. By the end of the visit I felt even better. Although they anticipate a couple more kids, right now there are only 3 students in his class. And one of the boys is a friend from his class last year! A really sweet, quiet boy, with a cute old-fashioned-type name like Henry's.

Henry found some (too easy for him) puzzles, and some Disney books on the shelf. After that, I think he felt right at home.

Even though our district is small enough that it doesn't have bus service, the special ed kids get picked up in a school bus (a regular-sized one, not a short bus). So that was an added excitement this morning. I didn't have time to get weepy- I needed to snap some pictures and make sure that Thomas didn't run out in the street. Henry took along an arsenal of his favorite things: the binder full of print-outs, the Lady and the Tramp DVD box, and the insert from the Lady and the Tramp CD we borrowed from the library.

From all accounts it sounds like he had a "super good" day today. I wonder if he will object to going tomorrow? I'll let you know.

And I think I will ask his teachers and therapists to work on riding a bike. I am not equipped with the knowledge or the stamina to do this stuff alone.

milestones

Henry's birthday is coming. His summer program is coming to an end. A new school year is ready to begin. All these moments to mark this place in time in my memory.

Tuesday Henry had his annual eye exam at 3. It was his class' day to swim in the Easter Seals indoor pool, from 1:15 to 2:15. I arrived around 2, shushing the teachers, so Henry wouldn't notice I was there, and watched him swim a little. Getting the kids dried off and back into their clothes seems to take up about half of the swim hour. I talked with Henry's teachers as they dried off each shivering skinny kid, and I had the opportunity to ask some of the kids their names. I noticed one boy hopping and flapping his hands excitedly in a Henry-esque way.

Henry was the last child out of the pool, and I thought back to 2 summers ago, when he would have been crying and holding on to a teacher for dear life, or just staying on the steps. Then I thought back to last summer, when he spent a good deal of time being separated from the other kids because aggression seemed to be the only form of communication he trusted.

All of a sudden, he is one of the big boys. One of the kids who gets to mess around with Mr. Chris, the cool swimming instructor, and stay in the pool longer than the rest. He has spent much of this summer being Ms. S's helper- making bulletin boards and getting lunches from the kitchen. Ms. S told me that she works at Home Depot on the weekends. They have kid projects from time to time, and she brought one in for the kids to work on: a pencil box. "Henry's been telling me that he made me a pencil box!" I said. But I didn't realize that he had made it using a hammer and nails!! I wouldn't have imagined that!

At the eye doctor, I was again astounded by, and so proud of, my sons. Each one sat in the chair, named the letters and pictures (Tommy doesn't know his letters yet), looked through the "machine that looks like a viewmaster", even let the doctor put the dilating drops in their eyes. They were perfect the entire time, except at the beginning of Thomas' exam: the doctor would say "Tommy, what am I pointing to?" and Henry would shout out the answer "a duck!"

I thought back to what a struggle last year's exam had been. Sigh. This is better. Things have improved. For all of us. The summer has flown by with hardly a behavioral blip. Henry actually made friends in the summer program. He and his brother are almost maybe starting to be friends. Thomas is using the potty almost all the time. Kate and I aren't yelling at each other all the time. Wow- it has been a pretty good year (knock on wood).

Today I approached my boss about altering my work hours. Henry will be picked up for school at 8:10. I am supposed to be at work at 8, and while I am consistently about 20 minutes late anyway, I think that being a whole hour late requires some discussion.

I looked into the before-care program at his school, but it is actually housed at a different elementary school. So I would have to drop Henry off at one location, to hang out with a group of kids for half an hour, then he would be transported on a bus to his school. This is unacceptable to me.

So I can't think of another option but to change my hours at work: either work 9-5:30 with a half hour for lunch instead of an hour, or officially change my work status to 90% time (which would of course incur a 10% pay cut.)

And I haven't forgotten the weird tag- I'm working on it. Have a great weekend everyone.

Yesterday I e-mailed the Director of Special Education in our district:

Hi XXXXXXX,

I'm not sure if you would know the answers to these questions, but I don't know who else to ask...

Do you know if the STACK classroom will be having an open house before school starts? It is only a few days away, and I've not heard anything from Henry's teacher. We received the letter from (county organization) giving us her name and confirming that Henry will be attending Highland*, etc.
But I've been expecting to get a letter from the teacher, letting us know what he'll need in the way of school supplies, and when we can come in to check out the room. That's important for any kid before school starts, but especially our autism spectrum kids!

Henry seems excited about first grade, and he is familiar with Highland's playground, but I don't think we've been inside the building since those initial speech and PT evaluations, years ago.
Thanks for your help, and let me know if I should be shooting these questions to someone in (The county organization).

-Gretchen

*Highland is not the real name of his school. That's actually the name of the elementary school I attended.

Well, whad'ya know, guess who called me last night? Henry's teacher. She was kind of loud and disorganized. Partway through the conversation she yelled "I'm on the phone!" to someone, presumably one of her kids. She explained that she just moved here, and will be getting a tour of the school today (Thursday). First she said that she would be sending me a letter today, about visiting the school on Monday (school starts on Tuesday). Later in the conversation she said that she would call me today about setting up a time to come in on Monday.

I am really trying hard to not jump to conclusions here, but I didn't get the warmest, fuzziest, most confident feeling about this new teacher. But I keep telling myself: There are all different kinds of personalities, and they can all be great teachers. Ms. H was not the only good teacher Henry will ever have. Also, there will be 2 aides in the classroom and I'm sure they will be wonderful.

I'm just uneasy, and will be for the next couple weeks until this is all a known, rather than an unknown.

I can tell that Henry is feeling uneasy also, and I need to make a conscious effort to spend more time with him. He has been talking in his sleep a lot, and I can't think of a more tactful way to say this, so I'll just say it- he has pooped in his pants several times over the past week. I can only imagine that he is

a.) responding somehow to Thomas' potty training (which is going great, by the way)

and/or

b.) this is how Henry is revealing his worry about the coming school year.

Last night I spent a little extra time reading and snuggling with him- that will, no doubt, be beneficial to both of us.
___________

One other thing on my mind today:

May JonBenet and her mommy finally rest in peace. I cannot read anymore of this story.

the state fair

Henry: It's finally August 12th!

Thomas: We is doin' to the fair with dranpa and dranma and me and my big brudder and my mommy.

Henry and I have a special tradition of going to the fair every year. He has always loved farm animals, probably due to my unconscious training. I love farm animals too. My dad grew up on a farm, so I suppose that is why I have this soft spot for agricultural stuff. And I love to have my dad come along to the fair- he always teaches us something new. I hope this will be something my kids will always remember.

We had planned to go yesterday, because a cousin from a different part of the state was going to be receiving an award for her Severe Weather Poster design! And yesterday's weather cooperated to make it a perfect day.

When we finally got into the parking area (after sitting in quite a bit of traffic, but the boys were very patient), we caught a ride to the front gate on a wagon, pulled by a tractor. How cool was that? You can tell by the boys' faces:

(Tommy is wearing Grandma's hat!)

When we got inside, we quickly veered off the midway, and headed for the animal barns. Here are grandpa and Thomas admiring some beautiful cows:

And Henry, milking a cow:

A shift out of the usual routine came when we went across to the other side of the fair to see my cousin and her family. This upset Henry a bit, and he did a lot of loud disagreeing. It also required crossing the midway again, and Henry caught sight of some of the Disney-type prizes available as prizes for the games.
I really try to keep him in the dark about anything at the fair aside from the agricultural stuff. If we had to go and ride the rides and play the games and mill about with all the crowds eating funnel cakes, I wouldn't do it.
After some lunch and some strawberry ice cream, Henry's mood was back on track. We checked out the tent where newborn babies were on display- some lambs, chicks, ducklings, and a calf that was just trying to stand up! I think if we had arrived a few minutes earlier, we would have seen it being born!! While I might have found that interesting, it probably would have scarred my children for life, so just as well that we missed it.
While trying to duck out of the crowds, I led us into the building where a horse show was going on. As we walked around the perimeter, past the concession stands, Henry heard the organ music coming out of the arena, and requested to go in. OK, why not?
So we caught just the last set of the competition- (I don't know anything about horses, so don't know what to call this type of riding) individual horses, pulling small wooden wagons. The announcer would instruct them to run at different gaits, then stop, then go backwards! At the point when the riders had stopped, and all was quiet, Henry shouted out "they won the game!" Pretty funny. Then, when the horses were lined up at the end, Henry shrieked "the black horse won!"
He ended up being correct: the black horse did win first place. But there were only 2 horses in this competition, so he had a 50/50 chance of being correct.

It was comforting to see that we could add a new activity to the day with pleasant result. Of course, it was all Henry's idea. I'm sure if grandma, grandpa, or I (or God forbid, his brother) had suggested watching the horse show, Henry would have not gone so willingly.
When it was time to leave, of course Henry didn't want to. That's when Grandma pulled something out of her bag of tricks: "Henry, I have a new puzzle for you back at your house. A Cinderella movie poster puzzle." After hearing that, Henry couldn't get out of the fair fast enough!
I have to post this last picture, even though I try not to post anyone's picture without asking their permission:
My dad is such a good sport. On the way out of the fair, Henry was tired, and riding in Thomas' stroller. So dad carried Tommy on his shoulders. Then I had the bright idea of buying the boys frozen fruit bars to eat. Thomas carried his happily, but didn't eat any of it. Instead, he let it melt down onto Grandpa's head and shoulder. Before I grabbed it from him and threw it away, I made them pose for a picture so I would always remember.
Mom and dad even bought me a souvenir: a t-shirt from the John Deere licensed products booth that says "farmer's daughter" with the John Deere logo. When it comes to the fair, I guess I'll never grow up! (Here's the John Deere website, but the shirt I got isn't pictured there.)

the letdown

Once again, I've been cocky. Thomas had a rough day with the potty stuff yesterday. 2 accidents (of the poopy variety) at his sitter's, and then I think 3 accidents at home last night, in the span of 1 1/2 hours.

I really hate potty training. I feel like every inch of our house will soon be covered with pee-pee. Shiiiver. Yuck.

Tommy started crying every time he had an accident, but I think it was because he knew we would then make him sit on the potty some more, not because he felt bad for having an accident. One time, he was sitting on his brother's bed, so then we had to take all the bedding off and wash it. I tried to get Thomas to assist me in throwing the dirty stuff down the laundry chute, but he defiantly refused. So then, on top of all the potty issues, I punished him for "not listening", and took away his saber. Yes, it was a grim night.

Tommy also awoke during the night, crying. That hasn't happened for quite awhile. He won't communicate at those times, so I never know if he has had a bad dream, or if something is hurting him... He didn't have a fever, wasn't drooling as if it were his teeth. He seemed to be squirming as if his legs were hurting, so I tried rubbing them. When I got to his left foot, he relaxed, yawned, and fell back asleep. Do you think he is having growing pains or something?

I am also feeling sorry for myself because I have been keeping up with my new exercise regimen pretty faithfully for 2 months now, but my clothes are getting tighter than ever. I was living in this fantasy world where all you have to do is start exercising 1/2 hour several times a week and you quickly become a supermodel. Oh, you mean I need to also not eat everything that occurs to me? Who knew? I really hate dieting and potty training.
_________

Let's talk about vacation again. Christine brought up a good question after my last post: "did Henry show the same preference for staying inside when you were on vacation?"

No. Not nearly as much. I think it has to do with his expectation of "how things should be." In Michigan, you go outside to swim, sail, watch the boats go down the river, etc. At home, you stay inside to do puzzles, read books, watch movies.


Here is Bill carrying Henry home "like a sack of potatoes" after swimming. Henry didn't want to come back in.

And there's not as much appealing stuff to do outside at home. The outside stuff here (sandbox, roller skating, playgrounds) doesn't tickle his fancy the same way. There was a playground up in Michigan, which Tommy enjoyed, but Henry never played on it.

When we were inside on vacation, it was often hard to get him to leave. We had brought some puzzles and books, and the story tapes, after all...

But maybe we just forced the issue more, because there were special things we all wanted to do.

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.
______
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!"
______
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.

Our weekend had some ups and downs. Sometimes lately, I get cocky and think "Henry used to have all those behaviors, but he's doing so much better now- he's making great strides." And he is- he is. But then the day comes that we do something unusual, like picking up an uncle at the airport, and Henry reverts back to his house-on-fire voice and his insistent and overpowering manner, and I think that maybe we haven't come so far after all.

My brother-in-law was in town briefly yesterday. We headed out to the airport to meet him and wandered around. The confusion was my fault- instead of just saying we would drive by the passenger loading/unloading area, I said that we would park and all come in to the airport. I consistently make this mistake. I always think "boys like airports- this will be fun." And I always forget that it's confusing and crowded and both boys like to ride escalators*, and you can't even see any airplanes anyway, now that unticketed folks are not allowed beyond the security check.

(*I have a weird little escalator phobia- I have recurring dreams where I need to get on an escalator going down, but it's going really, really, really fast and it's hard to step on and hard to hold on... I obviously have done a good job of hiding this fear, because my kids love to ride the escalator!)

Henry kept shouting that he wanted to ride the escalator: repeating it non-stop in the house-on-fire voice. We rode it a couple of times, and then the boys and I just gave up and went back to wait by the car.

Once Bill found Uncle J., we all headed for breakfast at Bob Evans. As soon as he walked in the door, Henry spotted a Strawberry Supreme Pie in the display case. He pressed his face and sweaty hand to the glass and shouted "I want this pie! I want this pie! I want this pie!"

Why so much shouting? And why so much anxiety? You know, now that I think about it, I did not prep him ahead of time on the plan. Maybe if I had told him a few days ahead of time, this would not have all been so exciting and overwhelming. Duh. I know this stuff, but then I forget it. Or I think it's not necessary for a little Sunday morning trip to the airport.

On Saturday, Henry and I went to the library. There was a girl there, a few years older than Henry, who was reading aloud to her mom. She seemed to really struggle- one of those kids who reads
so
slowly
that
it's
hard
to
follow
what
she's
saying. Her mom was being kind of short with her, and correcting her in a gruff way, even when her mistake was something as simple as saying "of" instead of "off". I felt sorry for this girl, to be spending her Saturday afternoon in such an unpleasant way, and to be struggling so much with her reading. I hoped that she would grow to enjoy reading in spite of that.

At the same time, Henry was quietly reading aloud from the front cover of the Star Wars book on tape. "A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away... Luke Skywalker had returned home to Tatooine..."

Yes, most of that was memorization, but it still gave me a lift. What a blessing- Henry has his share of difficulties, but I'm so glad that reading isn't one of them!

emotional rescue (another song on dad's MP3)

I just finished a book that I can't get out of my head: The Time Traveler's Wife by Audrey Niffenegger (one of your suggestions for my vacation reading). I started the book on vacation, then lost interest partway through, then picked it up again over the weekend and finished it. It's a good book, with a clever premise, but there are some things I wish the author would have explored more- I wanted to know some more about the characters, and I guess I just like everything tied up in a neat little bow at the end.

The thing is, it wasn't my favorite book ever, but yet I still keep thinking about it. Maybe this is why I don't read more books- I get obsessive about them. Why can't I just read a good book in a casual way? It's like I have to get totally immersed in it- to the point where I'm bawling at the end when a certain thing happens that we already knew was going to happen.

(I could tell this thing was going to happen about halfway through, and that's part of why I stopped reading for a little while. It's kind of like when we watched rented Titanic years ago- I got mad halfway through and went to bed: "why am I even caring about these characters? We know the ship is going to sink and they're all going to die anyway!")

I was equally perseverative after reading the Harry Potter books. I started surfing all those goofy Harry Potter sites, and reading all the essays that the HP geeks post on their theories. Get a life, Gretchen. Finish the book, put it on your shelf, and move on!

Sometimes I wonder if I have an over-active emotion gene, which causes me to invest myself a little too much? Kristin wrote awhile back about being "too sensitive." I commented then that "I cry every time there's a baptism at church. I'd call that sensitive. Or 'in touch with my emotions'. I wish I could control it better sometimes, but it's who I am."

Here's another example: my boss' wife passed away from cancer almost 3 years ago. Her illness was quick, and our small office was privy to just about every detail, every emotion, that my boss was feeling. It was pretty awful, to say the least. This past spring, he got re-married. The last time I had seen most of the wedding guests had been at his first wife's funeral, and some of them had been very close friends of hers.

The wedding was lovely, but I felt completely drained by the end of the night. Bill and I talked about it the next day, and decided that maybe this event was especially emotionally draining for me, because I was thinking about so much other stuff: his first wife, her funeral, how her friends must be feeling, how I would be feeling if it were me, what my husband would do if I were to die... ugh. It was like I couldn't shift gears- the last time I saw these people was at a horribly sad event. Now, we're at a terrifically happy event! Screeech! I wish I could just turn my emotions down a click for awhile and enjoy the party.

Last week one of the DJs on the sunshine-y morning radio program had a baby. As I listened to the other DJs talk to her on the phone, I suddenly felt my lip start to quiver. "What the hell?!" I thought. People have babies EVERY DAY. Why does someone talking about having a baby (albeit at the same hospital where I had my sons) make me cry???

But, as she was talking, I think I was subconsciously picturing myself in that hospital bed, holding a tiny, wiggly, squeaky baby, feeling exhilarated and frightened and proud and stunned all at the same time.

I don't want to turn off my emotions- they are what make me feel alive, and make me appreciate all the beauty in my life. I just don't want to be a slave to them!

#100, just boring old stuff

Was yesterday a full moon? Because it was a weird day. First, the head of Henry's "summer camp" program at Easter Seals called to tell me that Henry had gotten bonked in the face. I guess another child in the program likes to mess around with the naptime cots, stacked in the corner. Henry was sitting on the floor, reading a book, when this child swung a cot around and hit Henry right in the nose!!! His nose bled a little, and now he has an ugly bruise across the bridge of his nose, where his glasses smashed into his face. Glad we paid a little extra for the flexible-frame glasses, because they are fine- just his face is hurt :-(

Then Bill called a couple hours later to tell me that they were locked out of the house, and could I come home early? It's not like they could just hang out in the yard, with it being so sweltering outside.

Bill had a bad day at work, and some of my friends reported weird goings-on in their lives. Either it was a full moon or the heat is starting to scramble everyone's brainwaves.

We are going to try to "get serious" about Thomas's potty training. He definitely has the language and the knowledge of what's happening. He also has older friends at the sitter who should be providing the peer pressure. But he just seems to be too lazy. I'm thinking he is the kind of kid who will really respond to one of those schemes where he gets a sticker every time he goes, and then when he gets a certain number of stickers we go buy a toy.

Anyone with experience with this? That stuff would never have worked with Henry. I honestly don't remember how we finally got Henry using the potty... I think his sitter did all the work. And he was right around 4 years old. Tommy is not quite 2 1/2, but I'm sure he's ready.

He's definitely familiar with the body parts involved. A couple days ago, riding in the car, we were talking about something to do with daddy. All of a sudden, Tommy says "him have a p***s?" (I feel like I shouldn't write out the whole word or I'll get some kind of weirdos doing google searches for inappropriate things...)

I replied "who? daddy?" And Tommy goes "NO- hiiim" and holds up his teddy bear. "Him have a p***s?" And he points to the bear's tail!

I said "no- that's his tail."

Tommy thought about that for a minute and then said "Oh. Does him have a bottom, and a hole?" Straight from the Once Upon a Potty books.

I swear sometimes it's like starting all over with Tommy. Henry never went through some of those goofy stages that typical kids do- where they are obsessed with potty talk and stuff. Henry's always seemed sort of above all that, in a way.

almost 100

"Thanks, God, for giving us a new week." That's what Henry just said, while soaking in the tub.

It's something I have said once or twice, when praying with him at church. But we haven't been to church in months. What made him say that tonight? What made that thankful emotion overcome him?

When I repeated it back to him, Henry added, "Thanks, God, for giving us the fire in the fireplace." I had already forgotten how sweet he was the night we made a fire on vacation. He was entranced by the fire and kept thanking each of the grownups for it. Maybe tonight he had an epiphany, and realized that, although Daddy might make the fire, God is ultimately responsible for it. (Or maybe he was just really mellowing out after a long day of summer camp swimming, going to "Bally Total Fitness" with Daddy, printing some things from the computer and eating a dinner of sausage and waffles.)

The pictures above are of a night my sons both fell asleep in Henry's bed (with a flashlight between them) something my friend Sal's kids do often, but I thought I would never see at my house; and their reaction to the fireworks on the fourth (holiday I supposedly don't like).

This is post #99. Thanks for reading for almost 100 posts. There's a good vibe in our house right now- hope it extends to yours as well.

some vacation photos

The digital camera is still up in Michigan with Kate. The teenagers spent the first week with our family and the second week with my brother-in-law's family- lucky ducks. So some of the pictures are still with her. But I had my film developed and put on a disk also.

This is the "big dock":

Some of the braver ones were heading out for a sunset swim. (Too chilly for me!) The weather ran the gamut- hot and humid when we first got up there, which was great for swimming, but by the time you made it back up the hill to our house, you were sweating again. And no air conditioning in these old cottages.

After a couple days, a quick storm came through and cooled everything off. After that, I wasn't as motivated to swim.

One day started off rainy, so the girls and I went in to "town" to visit the gift shops. They wanted to stop at the dollar store also. I rolled my eyes, went in, and came out with $24 worth of stuff, including these squirt guns:


One of the "mishaps" I mentioned happened the first day we loaded up on the boat. We got both boys all decked out in their life jackets, and brought all the rest of the gear that you need: sunscreen, drinks, dry clothes, towels, hats, sunglasses, etc. etc.
We got settled and Bill said "ok, ready boys? This will be a little loud." They covered their ears, grinning, and Bill turned the key in the ignition.
---
---
Nothing happened.
Not even a clicking sound.
The boat was broken.
So then we had to load all our crap back out of the boat. Both boys were crying, and I was trying not to look Bill in the eye, because I knew he must be furious.
He recovered quickly, however, and we modified our plans to go swimming instead. (Another example of the grownups continuing to "grow up" over the years. A few years ago the boat thing would have probably ruined our day.)
The boat was able to be repaired, but it took a couple days.

Here's Thomas swimming in the lake- grinning and shivering. The water is nice and shallow for a long distance- it's great for kids! The first day Tommy got knocked down several times by the waves- face-first- and it was hard for him to regain his balance. But he adapted quickly, and the water shoes helped too.
Everyone at work has commented on this picture:

I guess it's a classic. That's what vacation is all about- just having time to sit and watch the world go by with your kids.

(There is one other picture that is one of our favorites, but I can't post it on the internet. I got the boys toy light sabers before we left. One day they must have been having a light saber fight after swimming and taking off their wet suits- I call it "Naked Jedi". That will get me some weird Google searchers, won't it?!)

vacation part one

(Blogger is giving me a hell of a time uploading pictures. Sorry, I know this is no good without the pictures- I will keep trying.)

We're back. It really stunk to come back to work yesterday. I mean, normally I like my job and the people I work with. But the first day back after vacation is a real drag. I pouted for most of the day, and tried to comfort myself with a really expensive salad and sushi lunch from the health food store.

On a happier note, we had a terrific vacation!! It wasn't without mishaps and frustrating moments, but all in all it was great. I imagine it will take me a few posts to get through all the things I want to share and record here.

Vacations like this, when you visit the same place year after year, can't help but be sentimental. Bill has been going to this cottage for his entire life. So has Kate. I've been visiting since 1993. As I reflect on this most recent vacation, I can see not only how much our kids have grown over the years, but how Bill and I have grown too (and I don't mean around the middle! I try NOT to notice that.)

When Bill first introduced me to this vacation spot, I wasn't much of a lake person. I thought they were pretty to look at, but I was afraid of the rickety docks, afraid of the boat, and grossed out by the mucky sand and seaweed and little FISH swimming around my feet- eeek!

On the first day of vacation this year, I stopped to look at myself: leading my two young children out into the lake in our water shoes. All by myself- not scared at all, and teaching my sons not to be scared either. I realized that this is just one of the countless new experiences that my husband and my children have brought to my life.

Both boys swam in the lake like little fish! I can't convey how proud I was. I really feel like Henry's swimming lessons were one of the smartest moves we made with him. If for no other reason than it gives him the confidence to explore the water.

Henry really enjoyed himself, but also did a lot of protesting, at just about every transition: "I don't want to go to the big dock I don't want to go to the big dock I don't want to go to the big dock I don't want to go to the big dock..." all the way to the big dock. Once there, he would jump in and paddle around and have the time of his life.

And his bravery scared me a little. On the first day, while I was unpacking, I heard the door slam (thank God this house is so loud and creaky). I looked out the window, and there was Henry, walking across the street! I asked what he was doing, and he said "I want to go back to the lake." I told him that he must never go to the water without a grownup, and it seemed to sink in, because he didn't try that again.

We also spent quite a bit of time sitting beside the river, which feeds into the lake, watching boats go by. I made a big fuss about how deep and cold the river was, because I was quite fearful that he would jump right in. (I guess my deep-seated fear of the water is not quite gone...)

One of our worst vacation experiences was the summer Henry was 2 and Kate was 12. At that time we did not suspect that Henry was autistic. We just thought he was a pretty stubborn, bratty toddler. For just one example, he always wanted to take off his swim trunks, and we would fight and fight about it. At that time Kate was at an age where she wanted to hang out with other kids, rather than with us (the same families are always up there, so there are other kids to play with). But we weren't quite prepared for her to not want to be with us. That vacation was so unpleasant that we didn't go back for the next 2 summers!

Well, Henry still doesn't like to wear his wet, clingy swim trunks. Always wants to take them off as soon as he gets out of the water. So I try to remember to bring his dry clothes with us, so he can change right away. Now that I understand him better, I can adapt, and we are all happier. This is another example of how I observed that Bill and I have grown as parents. Another is: now we know that Henry will protest about most activities, but we know when to ignore it. Back when he was 2 years old, we would have gotten angry and said "he never even wants to swim. What a waste of time... grr grr grr..."

Henry did seem to miss his technological companions: the movie player and the computer. He asked many times to watch a movie or play on the computer. We brought along several Disney book-on-tapes, and those received heavy rotation. (Pretty much like listening to a movie, rather than watching one. Oh well.) I was pleasantly surprised that once we arrived back home, Henry went up to his bedroom and started playing with all the toys in the toybox- didn't even ask about the tv or computer.

(I missed technology too- on Thursday afternoon I took a nap, and dreamt that I was staying in a fancy hotel with a big jacuzzi bathtub surrounded by televisions and computers!!!!! What a pitiful statement about my subconscious!)

When we were swimming in the lake on the first day, I heard Henry say "I'm not afraid of anything!" I could tell it was a script, and asked him "who says that?" he replied "Piglet." Even though he was using Piglet's words, I felt that he had picked out an appropriate script for himself, and I thought my heart just might burst at that moment.

see ya

We are leaving on vacation EARLY (like 3 am) tomorrow morning, so I won't be reading or writing for the next 9 days or so.
Bill's family has a summer home in Northern Michigan, and that's where we're headed. We have been so blessed to have this place to visit every year. Last year we joined Bill's brother, sister, and their families, and all stayed in the old creaky house together (that's when this picture was taken). This year it will just be us, plus one of the cousins- the other teenager- to keep Kate company.
The house comes complete with the old wooden boat pictured above and a sailboat. Last year Henry LOVED being on board both boats, so I anticipate he'll be doing a lot more of that with Daddy this year. There's a sort of unwritten no television rule at "the cottage" (they call it a cottage, but it's really a big house) which you might think would be difficult, but it's actually quite liberating and calming. (For a week, I mean- I'm not getting rid of my tv and cable at home anytime soon.) I bought a couple new puzzles for Henry and 2 Power Ranger kickboards for swimming in the lake.
I'm bringing along 3 of your book suggestions, and hope to get some quiet time at the beach or at the house while Thomas is napping...
Have a good week. I wonder if I will miss the computer?

the force was with us

I took a vacation day today to visit COSI with my kids and my parents. I'm pretty pooped.

There are lots of fun things to see at Cosi. But this time we went especially to see the Star Wars exhibit. For those of you with kids on the spectrum, the story of my day will be familiar: I had some fun times and made special memories with my family. But the fun did not always come easily...

First, we arrived and needed to wait for Grandma to stand in line for the tickets. There's a large area in which to wait, and a few things to look at. I asked the kids to stand in front of one of the big Star Wars ads, to take their picture. Here's what happened:

Thomas posed like a champ.

Henry got anxious and frustrated because we were not seeing the Star Wars exhibit right now, and of course he wouldn't be willing to stand still for a stupid picture. I was glad Kate came with us, especially because she is so good at talking to Henry and calming him down:


Stupid mom idea #2 was, "ok, let's look in the gift shop while we wait." (Translated as: "I'll spend some money before we even get inside the place.") As I paid for Henry's Space sticker book, and Tommy's knight action figure, Henry asked the sales girl "where are the Star Wars puzzles?" She replied "oh, they have some upstairs at the exhibit." Well, duh- of course there was another gift shop upstairs, featuring all things Star Wars.
We went up to the 2nd floor, where the special exhibit was. But right outside the elevator was "kidspace"- the hands-on area just for young children, up to kindergarten age. All of a sudden, Henry didn't want to go to the Star Wars exhibit! He wanted to go into kidspace!
It's so painful to watch him struggle- it's like he has no way of controlling his impulses when confronted with so many fun things- afterwards he remembers it as having fun, but at the time, it seems like he is tormented by all the fun things he wants to do, but can't do them all at the same time, and no matter which one he chooses, then he wishes he were doing the other...
Again, Kate helped calm him down, and we made our way to the Star Wars wing of the building. We passed the gift shop area first, and he made a beeline for it. I believe that one smart move I made was going ahead and stopping there first. I felt that if we didn't, he would just rush through the exhibit itself, wanting to get to the end.
They did, indeed, have lots of puzzles! Henry picked one, and then asked that salesgirl about sticker books, and she showed them to us! This amused me so much because Henry looks for puzzles and sticker books everywhere we go, and we can't usually find them. This place was like the answer to all his prayers. It would be like if he showed up at your house and said "where are your Disney movies and puzzles?" and you replied, well, my living room is full of them, Henry. Have at it. And here are some sprinkle donuts to eat."
Here is Henry with his sticker book and puzzle, standing in front of the book display. (As a grownup first generation Star Wars fan, I have to say that the gift shop and exhibit itself were pretty awesome.)
Here's my little jedi fighting a stormtrooper:

And the biggest bad guy of them all, Darth Vader:

After Star Wars, we went to kidspace. Both boys had a lot of fun there. It's a confined area where the kids can run around and play with water, sound, light, dress-up, build with blocks, etc. Henry did great there, and then worked on his new puzzle while Tommy played a little more.
There was also a display outside of construction trucks that the kids were able to climb up on:


Whatever area we were in, Henry didn't want to leave. Wherever we were headed, he didn't want to go. Until we got there, and then he didn't want to leave...
We've watched Star Wars: A New Hope twice since we've been home, and Henry's done his puzzle at least 6 times. Tommy didn't take a nap, so went to bed early. It was a good day.

...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?

report on the 4th, pictures, and a question

Thank you all for sharing your neuroses with me! Isn't it interesting that a lot of moms seem to worry about making the holidays "just right", while many husbands and kids probably couldn't care less?

It seems that it was a good strategy for me to vent to the internet, get a few things off my chest, and then go on to enjoy the day. The rain stopped by mid-afternoon, and we actually went out and socialized. There was a neighborhood party a couple blocks up the street, featuring a jumping thing (I never know what to call those things- it's not really a ride...) and a 3-person slip-n-slide!

Henry ate a lot of fruit and some rice krispie treats (my contribution to the party), then came over to join his brother in the jumper. He got inside and started stiffly boucing around, stopping to check in with me every 30 seconds or so. At one point an older girl was leaning against the side of the jumper near him. He leaned toward her and said "hiiiiiiii" in that high-pitched way you use when you're trying to get someone's attention. I was so excited that he was trying to engage someone! Then he turned to me and said "you want me to tell you what she is?" I translated this as meaning he wanted to know her name. So I said "you could tell her your name, and ask her what her name is". He kind of looked at her, looked back at me, and went back to jumping. Guess that all seemed like too much work.

Then we moved over to the slip-n-slide. I was also very happy with Henry's interaction there. After I dragged him by the hand and pretty much knocked him to the ground to make him slide, he preferred to stand off to the side, cheering for the other kids and getting splashed by them. That went well for quite a while. But then he started getting braver, and wanting to spend more time on the slip-n-slide, just standing on top of the spraying water. I encouraged the other kids to just go around him for awhile. But it really wasn't fair or safe to leave him standing in the middle. Eventually we ended up having to leave the party, because it was time for Tommy's nap and I saw no end to the slip-n-slide battle. But we stayed for over an hour, and I viewed it as a success.

We went to the fireworks that evening, which was enough to make me re-think "not liking the 4th of July." The boys were SO SO SO excited. As we drove there, they were searching the skies for fireworks. Tommy kept saying "I see sompting!" We found a good spot, put down a tarp and a blanket, and watched. Henry covered his ears at first, but we were far enough away that the booms weren't too loud. Tommy declared that some "looked like a butterfly" and Henry exclaimed that one "looked like a tree." We all ooohed and aaahed, and Henry asked "which one is your favorite, mommy?"

So maybe this holiday will get better for me as the years go on. Kate had the digital camera with her that night (she's got some nerve, huh?) so I had to take old-fashioned pictures. But here are a few from the weekend at my mom and dad's house (thanks mom!) This first one makes me laugh- like we are posing so proudly in front of our minivan:




And now my question: please give me some good vacation book suggestions. I think the last book I read was Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince last summer! So I'm open to anything...

anyone have time for some free psychotherapy?

I don't really like the 4th of July. Not 'cause I'm anti-American, or anything like that. It just comes up every year, and we make plans of things to do, and then once it gets here I'm like, "oh yeah, I never like this holiday."

So this year (the blogging has made me more introspective) I'm trying to figure out WHY. Let me give you a little background:

My family never made a big deal out of the 4th. Sometimes we went to see fireworks, but it wasn't a big thing we looked forward to all year or anything. My dad is a Viet Nam vet (air force), which you'd think might make us a big "rah rah 4th of July" kind of family. But dad didn't enjoy the noise and the crowds of those kinds of events. Most of us didn't, to be honest. Mom was often fighting a losing battle to be social (see my previous post, family matters, below).

In contrast, Bill's family was always very social. His mom was part of a bridge group and a tennis group, his dad had a poker group. They had standing dates with other families on the 4th, the day after Christmas, etc.

In general, summer's not really my favorite season. I don't do well with the sun or the heat- makes me really irritable. And 4th parties where people are playing with fireworks make me really afraid that someone's going to get hurt.

So every year we're invited to a former neighbor's house for a cookout and to watch the city fireworks. It's never been my favorite event, but now that we have 2 young kids, one of which is autistic, it has become easy to make excuses not to go. There aren't any kid-specific activities, and it feels like we're hanging around for hours, waiting for it to get dark so we can watch the fireworks.

The city fireworks were yesterday, and the suburbs all have theirs tonight. Yesterday I suggested we not go to the party, for all the reasons stated above. Bill was fine with it, and bought some stuff to cook out at home (one of his favorite ways to relax- drink a beer, listen to music, and cook on the grill). The thing is, today it's raining, so we are going to end up doing nothing special for the 4th. I feel guilty when my anti-social tendencies force my very-social husband to miss out on stuff.

I get weird around most holidays- I want them to be SO SPECIAL for my kids that I end up freaking out, which is not so special for my kids!

Bill and I were kind of half-joking that maybe I experienced some childhood trauma on the 4th of July which has scarred me for life. I don't think that's the case, but I'm just wondering: does anyone else "get weird" around holidays?

I want to fight with you!

The other subject on my mind lately has to do with Henry and friendships. Tara posted a few days ago about playdates, and when to force the issue with her son.

Henry has never shown much interest in "playing" with anyone. Some of his awkward attempts have been heartbreaking. For example, in preschool he would "tickle" classmates. (He would do it with us also.) But this tickling was way too rough- he would poke and pinch with his little fingers. It was an attempt to engage someone, but not a very successful one.

One evening last fall I remember seeing two boys running down the sidewalk together and thinking that Henry may never have a playmate like that. It made me sad, and still does a little.

I have learned a vital lesson in my relationship with my daughter, however, that carries right over to Henry: my kids are not going to be like me. It took me years to figure out that Kate is not going to one day wake up and like all the things I like. The same way I'm not going to wake up one day and understand basketball.

So Henry might not have a gang of friends to play football with on the weekends- that's OK. There are worse things than being a bit solitary. He will not be likely to fold to peer pressure, that's for sure!

That said, we are working on peer-relationship types of goals at school: learning to take turns, make conversation, etc.

And I see some encouraging signs. He spent a week at Tommy's sitter during spring break, and a few days this summer. I assumed that he would spend his time doing solitary things: reading or playing on the computer. But both times L reported that Henry played a lot with the kids his age, and the days when it was only "little kids" there with him, he was bored. He likes to "play fight", i.e. play that they are Power Rangers, or Jedi Knights. So that's a pretty mainstream thing to play. We just have to make sure he understands to ask the other kid if he wants to play fight first!

At the IEP meeting, Ms. H was talking about Henry's success with inclusion. I asked if she thought the other kids thought of him as "the weird kid". (I know, not politically correct term. But that's the kind of stuff I worry about, deep down. I don't want my son to be whispered about as the weird kid.) Ms. H said "oh, no, not at all. The other kids seem to really like him." And then our District Special Ed Director pointed out that, at this age, kids don't really judge in that way. They just say, "hey, that kid likes soccer and so do I. I'll be his friend." But they don't say "oh, that kid likes Disney movies and Power Rangers. He's a weirdo."

So I realized that I was giving that a little too much worry.