Happy 2012. Here Are My Resolutions. More or Less.

This year I resolve to:
 Read more, watch less. Play more, worry less. Be more silly, less serious. Spend more time cuddling and less time online (no offense to my Facebook friends). Experiment more, fear less. Cry more happy tears, fewer sad ones. Have more patience and less anger. Paint more, scrapbook more, create more. Critique less (myself in particular). Write more, stress less.  Hug and kiss more, yell less. Move more, sit less.  Give more, take less.  Love more.  

Can We Get An Extension?

School starts again in 20 days.  Less than 3 weeks.  It feels like we just got out of school and they have to go back again already.  I'm not ready to send them back.  Nicholas had such an awful year emotionally last year, and at the start of the summer, he was still tense and having problems dealing with . . . every little thing.  But now that we have had a few weeks to relax and be together, he is my little boy again.  He is laughing, and happy.  He is playing legos WITH both of his brothers instead of hiding his legos from them and playing alone.  He is playing with his Thomas trains again, with his little brother, and he wanted to go see Thomas when he came for Day Out With Thomas.  He wanted to see the Winne the Pooh movie, and watch Thomas the Tank Engine stories.  And he seems so comfortable and content with himself.  A summer of being able to be himself, and enjoy doing what he loves, and he feels good again.

 I'm not ready to let go of that.  I am loving this time with my boys, and I don't want to see it end.  I am anxious about the start of the new school year, with Nick and EJ in different schools, and what Nick's new school and class will bring.  Last week, I had a meeting with my homeschool consultant to talk about Gabe and set his new goals for the year, and I met another mom in our group who is homeschooling her son who is 14.  We started talking, and as she was telling me about her son, she could have been talking about Nick.  Turned out her son has Asperger's too, and has had all the same struggles.  So now I'm wondering if  I shouldn't consider doing it for Nicholas, too.  Honestly,  I don't think I am up to the task, and am not really thinking seriously about it.  But if Nick doesn't start having social success, and make friends, if I start to lose the happy boy I just got back and start to see the insecure, sad boy from last year, I might change my mind.  I know I need to give his new school and teacher a chance, and I do have high hopes for his new placement.  I'm just not quite ready to start yet.

 I just want more summer time to just BE.  To have stress-free, commitment-free, stay-up-late, sleep-in-a-tent, do-whatever-we-want-time during the summer with my little boys while they are all still little boys.  Can we just get an extension?

Trying Something New

I had grand plans for this summer.  One road trip to spend time with friends in the Pacific Northwest, and then "vacation at home" for the rest of the summer, exploring and enjoying the endless number of places here in the Bay Area that we never seem to have time for:  Exploratorium, Monterey Aquarium, Giants baseball,  Santa Cruz, the Tech, Lawrence Hall of Science, hiking and biking all of our beautiful county parks.  It was going to be the best summer ever.  Until next year.

But I am sidelined by a knee injury, for which the best treatment is time off.  I am supposed to keep weight off my knee so that it can properly heal itself. Great.  Well, staying completely off one's leg for any amount of time is, as we all know, a practical impossibility for anyone with kids.  Then there are MY kids, one of whom was very likely the culprit behind said injury.  "Nuff said.

So, I had to re-write the summer plans.  I am going to enlist help so we can at least do some of the things I had planned, with help, but we are going to spend a fair number of days hanging at home, so I needed to come up with a game plan that did not include watching movies and playing video games.  Well, last month I went to a scrapbooking retreat, which is open to all hobbies and crafts, and I was fortunate enough to sit across from a lovely woman named September, who was an artist.  She creates these beautiful mixed media collages, and I thought "I want to do that!"  So, off to Michael's I hobbled, and bought some art canvasses, some artists paints, dug out a bunch of my scrabooking papers and embellishments and sat down with the boys to engage in some art!  The boys do seem to enjoy it, but they don't want to spend nearly the same amount of time creating their art as I do.  I am really having fun with this, and I have made five collages!  Poor kids may never get to leave the house now, because I'm loving this!  Anyway, here are four of my first five.  What do you think?

Yes.  Those are real Lego pieces I used for Elijah and Nick.  The denim I used is a funny story actually.  Another post worth, I think!

Test Drive

I'm playing with my blog design. It needed a new look, but I can't really justify the expense of a custom design, so I'm trying out this free blog background from thecutestblogontheblock.com.  What do you think? Tell me honestly.

The Four Phases of Mother's Day

I hope all my dear mother friends had exactly the kind of day they wanted.  If you wanted gifts, I hope you got what you hoped for. If you just wanted a day to do something special with your children, I hope your day went as planned.  If you still are so fortunate, as I am, to have your mother,  I hope you were able to connect with her in some fashion.

In the post Mother's Day conversations I've had, I've felt somewhat guilty for my personal need to spend Mother's Day NOT being mom, thinking there must be something faulty with me personally.  I didn't always view Mother's Day this way.  I used to cherish having a special day to just BE with my adorable children, enjoying them and celebrating each other.  But they grew. And I realize now, that there are different phases we go through in terms of what Mother's Day means and how we celebrate.

The first phase is the fairy tale phase.  You have a new baby, maybe a toddler or two, they are small, adorable, still take naps and you are still reveling in the magic of motherhood.  It's still new and wonderful and all of the possibilities life has to offer lay open before you.  Mother's Day is a day you want to celebrate how lucky you are to have these beautiful blessings and to show them off and say "Yes, they are MINE and I love them so!" It was a good phase.  I do miss it.

Phase two - that would be my current place in time.  The bloom is off the rose. The kids are not babies or toddlers, they are kids.  Noisy, demanding, fighting with their siblings and telling me how unfair I am.  While I still am so thankful they are mine, and I love them so much it hurts, I need a break from them every so often.  Right now, so does my bum knee. They want to be with me all.the.time.  I am grateful that they do want to be with me, but for Mother's Day I want the day off.  When the morning's usual "Mooooooooom, my brother has wronged me in some way" whining began in earnest, I said "It's my day off, go tell your dad."

Phase three is coming soon, unfortunately, and I do hope it is a brief phase.  That's the phase where they want nothing to do with mom most of the time and the mere existence of a day to celebrate mothers barely registers in their consciousness.  I think purpose of phase three is so that phase four, by comparison, is something to be cherished.

Phase four is the bittersweet phase.  At least I think it will be bittersweet.  All grown, the kids appreciate you (especially if they have kids of their own!) and do make an effort, of their own accord, to let you know on Mother's Day.  But you won't necessarily get to BE with them.  Maybe they will live far away.  Maybe one of them will be in the military.  Or maybe they have kids of their own and Mother's Day is  now to celebrate the mother of their children.  I'll wish I could be with them and miss the days when I had them all to myself but if I do a halfway decent job with them now, I will hopefully still get a phone call.

So, what DID I do on Mother's Day?  I celebrated with my mother.  Oh, but first I must tell you about my breakfast.  The night before as Nick was headed off to bed, I jokingly said "I look forward to my Mother's Day breakfast!" and I got the deer-in-the-headlights look in response.  I reminded him the next morning was Mother's day, and he said "You do know I'm not allowed to use the stove or oven  don't you?" Classic Nick.  So the morning of Mother's day, I did indeed wake to a dutifully prepared breakfast.  I found a plate, in the center of which was a triple-decker toast-jelly stack surrounded by a banana, an apple, grapes and strawberries. In front of the plate was a chocolate chip cookie, with a bite taken out of it, and next to the plate was a glass of milk with the telltale cookie crumbs floating on top. I guess waiting for me to wake up was more than his tummy could bear.  Next to it all was a sign:"To Mom, From Nicholas.  P.S. the cookie and milk are to wash it down."

Man I love that kid. I almost felt bad for leaving them after that.

For my part I took my mother out.  We got makeovers, then went and had our portraits done, so now I have a current picture of me with my mom, something I haven't had since I was, well, MUCH younger.  After we got our makeovers, I told my mom how beautiful she was, and asked her if she liked her makeup.  She said "Yeah, but now you can see my wrinkle" as she pointed to her left eye.  And being the ever supportive daughter that I am, I giggled.  Wrinkle, singular?  "Mom" I said, as lovingly as possible, "I hate to break it to you, but you're 64.  Wrinkles come with the territory.  But if it makes you feel any better I have them too.  See?  We match!"

So we two wrinkly old moms went and had pictures done.  What do you think?

Bad Mom Award

Here it is, my bad mom moment for the week.  Nick was on the verge of tears and I pushed him right on over the edge in to full on cry.  By laughing. Out loud.  In front of him.

We were getting ready for school, and while he was supposed to be eating breakfast I was getting my clothes, when he came in on the verge of tears to tell me that there was something in his ear and he couldn't get it out.  I made quick a glance and saw nothing.  I told him I didn't see anything.  He was insistent, and said it really hurt.  I still didn't see anything, when he confessed "It's a carrot!"  I pulled his lobe a bit and looked closer and sure enough, there was a broken off piece of carrot lodged in the canal.  And I burst out in a fit of giggles.  I'm sorry, I know that's not very supportive of me, but . .   a carrot?  He's TEN!   Shouldn't he have outgrown the compulsion to stick food into orifices other than the mouth by now?  I guess the memory of the goldfish cracker when he was four has faded.  I tried to suppress the giggles while I asked him "Can you please explain to me the thought process that lead to this decision?" but that just made him cry more, so I stopped giggling, apologized, and gave him a big hug.  I got a toothpick and promised him that I would only try once, and then take it to the doctor if  I couldn't get it out.  Fortunately, it came out without much effort, and he even managed to laugh at the whole situation.

That was yesterday.  Wonder what they have in store for me today?

I'm Still Working On It

This week, we finally signed the IEP for Nicholas.  It's official.  I have three kids in Special Ed.  For anyone reading this who hasn't heard the term IEP, it stand for Individualized Education Plan, and every child in SpEd has one. It lays out the qualifications, and goals for the child for the year. Ever year, we meet, go over the progress, and rewrite the goals.

The decision of the IEP team, in Nick's case, is to send him to a different school in the district for 5th grade, so that he can participate in a program for kids with high functioning Autism and Aspergers. It is a Special Day class, he will not be mainstreamed.  The program is wonderful and I know he is going to thrive there.  I am even hopeful he will make some real friends.  On the whole, this is a good thing.  Yet, when I went to sign the paperwork, I just wanted to cry.  

I'm not even sure why.  We are so blessed.  I have more than one friend whose children have had to fight just to live.  My friends deal with brain tumors, and leukemia, and liver cancer.  My kids have it so easy in comparison.  But I still want to cry, and I feel guilty for feeling that way.

I know in my head how lucky we are.  I know in my head that while it won't necessarily be easy, they will be okay and happy.  My heart just hasn't quite got the message yet.  It still feels the sting of seeing my son in tears after being teased and bullied.  It feels the sting of judgment and assumption that comes when others look at my kids and don't see them for who they are.  It feels the sting when I can see in people's eyes that they see labels and stereotypes instead of people: "Down Syndrome"  Autistic"  "weirdo"  . . .  the r-word.

I am grateful.  I am, truly, grateful that my children are healthy, and don't have to fight the battles other children do.  But in my heart, that's not enough.  I want them to be seen for who they are,  accepted as is,  included and valued for their unique gifts.  It's not too much to ask is it?

Or maybe, I just need to focus less on what the world thinks, and spend more energy on being grateful for the privilege of being their mom, and for their health and all the love and support that surround us.  Maybe I just  need to get over myself and my hangups.  I'm trying. 

I hope my stronger friends, whose children have real fights to fight, will forgive me, and be patient with me.  I look up to you, and want to be more like you.

I'm still a work in progress.

Introducing My New Son

After dinner, Robert and I were in the bedroom chatting on the bed, when Elijah came in and ever-so-calmly held up his pinky finger and said "Gabriel bit me."  Usually, when Gabriel bites his brother, we know right away.  The ear-piercing screech which immediately melts into hysterical sobs are a dead giveaway. Of course, that is also Elijah's reaction when Gabe opens the car door before he can do it, so his matter-of-fact presentation of the offense was highly unusual, not to mention highly suspect.  I responded to this report with "Are you sure he bit you?  You're not screaming bloody murder."  He immediately tilted back his head, contorted his face and began crying as though he had been grievously injured.  Robert and I just started laughing.  Not receiving the response he had hoped for, he took a deep breath to stop his tears and asked "Are you going to go get Gabey in trouble?"  Um, no.  We just laughed harder.  And told him we are changing his name.  So, I am pleased and amused to introduce to you my new son, Phakey T. McPhakerson.  T stands for Tattles.  Or maybe we should go with Phakey McTattlepants? Have to think on it. 

On Thomas Jefferson

I was going to write a long, thoughtful piece about Thomas Jefferson, his views on religion, and economy and social safety nets, but I am tired and lacking patience today, and I have progress reports to finish, so I'll just make this short and sweet, and save the deeper discussion on our Third President for a later day.

I just want to say, if you are going to make it a point to quote Jefferson in defense of your  ideology, please make sure he did in fact say what you think he did.  Please.  As the election season heats up in earnest, I am seeing and hearing the same old ridiculous quotations, and I really wish people would do some homework before repeating them. So, here it is, for those who can't be bothered to do their own homework.

"My reading of history convinces me that most bad government has grown out of too much government."   

He never said this.  What he did write, in a letter penned in 1807 and addressed to John Norvell is that "History, in general, only informs us what bad government is."  He offers no indication what that is, nor any judgments on the size of government.  Interestingly, in the same letter, Jefferson recommends, among others, the writings of John Locke, who many consider to be the father of liberalism. 

As an aside, for those of us who follow politics, but are distrustful of today's media, this letter is an interesting read, in that it reveals Thomas Jefferson having the same misgivings.  You can read the letter here. This  is a taste of his reservation: "It is a melancholy truth, that a suppression of the press could not more compleatly deprive the nation of it's benefits, than is done by it's abandoned prostitution to falsehood. Nothing can now be believed which is seen in a newspaper. Truth itself becomes suspicious by being put into that polluted vehicle."

If he only knew.

Moving on . . .

"The democracy will cease to exist when you take away from those who are willing to work and give to those who would not."

Another favorite of people who operate under the offensive assumption that those in need are lazy do-nothings who aren't willing to pull their own weight. A lazy excuse for not caring about others, in my opinion.  Some defend this one by referencing another quote, which appears to be a note to an editor regarding his translation of Destutt de Tracy's Treatise on Political Economy, "To take from one, because it is thought that his own industry and that of his fathers has acquired too much, in order to spare to others, who, or whose fathers have not exercised equal industry and skill, is to violate arbitrarily the first principle of association, -€˜the guarantee to every one of a free exercise of his industry, & the fruits acquired by it.'"   The ways that even this quote has been misused and abused is fodder for an entirely separate blog post. Suffice it to say that seniors, the poor and the disabled would not likely be classified by Jefferson as people who have "not exercised equal industry and skill." 

"That government is best which governs least." There is no record of Jefferson ever saying or writing this.

Aaaaand , last one for today.  Gotta get those progress reports turned in.

"Democracy is nothing more than mob rule, where 51% of the people may take away the rights of the other 49%."  Contrary to this sentiment, what Jefferson said in his 1801 Inaugural Address was “All, too, will bear in mind this sacred principle, that though the will of the majority is in all cases to prevail, that will, to be rightful, must be reasonable; that the minority possess their equal rights, which equal laws must protect, and to violate which would be oppression.”  

 Reasonable.  Does the Tea Party even understand that concept?

OK - Vent over. Progress reports, here I come.

See Me

SEE me.

I am creative.

I am funny.

I am affectionate.

I am curious.

I am capable.

I am smart.

I am artistic.

I am fun.

I am kind.

I am silly.

I am serious.

I am thoughtful.

I am aware.

SEE me.

I am a learner.

I am a dancer.

I am a gymnast.

I am a musician.

I am an athlete.

I am a story teller.

I am an artist.

I am a scientist.

I am a singer.

I am an actor.

I am a writer.

I am a boy.

I am a son.

I am a brother.

I am a friend.

SEE me.

I am not Down Syndrome.

I am not Autism.

I am not retarded.

I am not weird.

I am not limited.

I am not disabled.

I am not what you think.

See ME.

I am worthy.

I am full of wondrous possibilities.

I am amazing.

See. Me.